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THE 


LADY OF THE FOREST. 


A STORY FOR GIRLS* 

5rrO.IL 


By L. T. MEADE, » 

Author of “The Little Princess of Tower Bill,” “ A Sweet Qirl 
Graduate ” “The Palace Beautiful” “Polly” “A 
World of Girls ” etc., etc. 


“ Tyde what may betyde, 

Lovel shall dwell at Avonsyde.” 


ILLUSTRATED EDITION. 


A. L. BURT COMPANY, 
PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK. 














CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. page 

Fair Little Maids 1 

CHAPTER II. 

Making Terms 20 

CHAPTER III. 

Preparing for the Heir 31 

CHAPTER IV. 

A Spartan Boy 37 

CHAPTER V. 

In the Forest 50 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Tower Bedroom 68 

CHAPTER VII. 

“ Betyde What May ” 79 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The Sacred Cupboard 95 

CHAPTER IX. 

A Trysting-Place 102 

CHAPTER X. 

Proofs 109 

CHAPTER XI. 

The Lady Who Came With a Gift 116 

CHAPTER XII. 

Lost in the New Forest 130 

CHAPTER XIII. 

One More Secret 136 


IV 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER XIV. 

The Australians 150 

CHAPTER XV. 

Was He Acting? 166 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Lost 184 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Looking for the Tankard 194 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

The Marmadukes 200 

CHAPTER XIX. 

A Tender Heart 214 

CHAPTER XX. 

Punished 224 

CHAPTER XXI. 

What the Heir Ought to Be 239 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Right is Right 246 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Forest Life. 259 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

A Great Alarm 267 

CHAPTER XXV. 

A Dream with a Meaning 280 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Love Versus Gold 286 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

Two Mothers 297 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

The Lady Who Came With a Gift. 307 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ Tyde what may betyde 
Lovel shall dwell at Avonsyde.” 


CHAPTER I. 

FAIR LITTLE MAIDS. 

“ And then,” said Rachel, throwing up her hands 
and raising her eyebrows — “ and then, when they 
got into the heart of the forest itself, just where the 
shade was greenest and the trees thickest, they saw 
the lady coming to meet them. She, too, was all 
in green, and she came on and on, and ” 

“ Hush, Rachel !” exclaimed Kitty ; “ here comes 
Aunt Grizel.” 

The girls, aged respectively twelve and nine, were 
seated, one on a rustic stile, the other on the grass 
at her feet ; a background of splendid forest trees 
threw their slight and childish figures into strong 
relief. Rachel’s hat was tossed on the ground and 


2 


TER LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Kitty’s parasol lay unopened by her side. The sun 
was sending slanting rays through the trees, and 
some of these rays fell on Kitty’s bright hair and lit 
up Rachel’s dark little gypsy face. 

“ Aunt Grizel is coming,” said Kitty, and imme- 
diately she put on a proper and demure expression. 
Rachel, drawn up short in the midst of a very ex- 
citing narrative, looked slightly defiant and began 
to whistle in a boyish manner. 

Aunt Griselda was seen approaching down a long 
straight avenue overshadowed by forest trees of 
beech and oak ; she held her parasol well up, and 
her face was further protected from any passing 
gleams of sunlight by a large poke-bonnet. She was 
a slender old lady, with a graceful and dignified ap- 
pearance. Aunt Griselda would have compelled 
respect from any one, and as she approached the 
two girls they both started to their feet and ran to 
meet her. 

“ Your music-master has been waiting for you for 
half an hour, Rachel. Kitty, I am going into the 
forest ; you can come with me if you choose.” 

Rachel did not attempt to offer any excuse for 
being late ; with an expressive glance at Kitty she 
walked off soberly to the house, and the younger 
girl, picking up her hat, followed Aunt Griselda, 
sighing slightly as she did so. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


3 


Kitty was an affectionate child, the kind of ohild 
who likes everybody, and she would have tolerated 
Aunt Griselda — who was not particularly affec- 
tionate nor particularly sympathetic — if she had 
not disturbed her just at the moment when she was 
listening with breathless interest to a wonderful 
romance. 

Kitty adored fairy tales, and Each el had a great 
gift in that direction. She was very fond of pre- 
facing her stories with some such words as the fol- 
lowing : 

“Understand now, Kitty, that this fairy story is 
absolutely true ; the fairy was seen by our great- 
great-grandmother or “ Our great-uncle Jonas de- 
clares that he saw that brownie himself as he was 
going through the forest in the dusk then Kitty’s 
pretty blue eyes would open wide and she would 
lose herself in an enchanted world. It was very 
trying to be brought back to the ordinary every- 
day earth by Aunt Griselda, and on the present oc- 
casion the little girl felt unusually annoyed. 

Miss Griselda Lovel, or “ Aunt Grizel” as her 
nieces called her, was a taciturn old lady, and by 
no means remarked Kitty’s silence. There were 
many little paths through the forest, and the two 
soon found themselves in comparative night. Miss 
Lovel walked quickly, and Kitty almost panted as 


4 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


she kept up with her. Her head was so full of 
Kachel’s fairy tale that at last some unexpected 
words burst from her lips. They were passing un- 
der a splendid forest tree, when Kitty suddenly 
clutched Aunt Grizel’s thin hand. 

“Aunt Grizel — is it — is it about here that the 
lady lives ?” 

“ What lady, child ?” asked Miss Lovel. 

“ Oh, you know — the lady of the forest.” 

Aunt Grizel dropped Kitty’s hand and laughed. 

“ What a foolish little girl you are, Kitty ! Who 
has been putting such nonsense into your head ? 
See, my dear, I will wait for you here; run down 
this straight path to the Eyres’ cottage, and bring 
Mrs. Eyre back with you — I want to speak to her. 
I have had a letter, my dear, and your little cousin 
Philip Lovel is coming to Avonsyde to-morrow.” 


Avonsyde was one of the oldest places in the 
country ; it was not particularly large, nor were its 
owners remarkable for wealth, or prowess, or deeds 
of daring, neither were the men of the house 
specially clever. It was indeed darkly hinted at 
that the largest portion of brains was as a rule be- 
stowed upon the female side of the house. But on 
the score of antiquity no country seat could at all 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


5 


approach Avonsyde. It was a delightful old place, 
home-like and bright ; there were one or two acres 
of flower-garden not too tidily kept, and abounding 
in all kinds of old-fashioned and sweet-smelling 
flowers ; the house had a broad frontage, its win- 
dows were small, and it possessed all the charming 
irregularities of a family dwelling-place which has 
been added to piece by piece. At one end was a 
tower, gray and hoary with the weight of centuries ; 
at the further end were modern wings with large 
reception-rooms, and even some attempts at modern 
luxury and modern ornamentation. There were 
two avenues to the place : one the celebrated 
straight avenue, which must have been cut at some 
long-ago period directly out of the neighboring 
forest, for the trees which arched it over were giant 
forest oaks and beeches. This avenue was the pride 
of the place, and shown as a matter of course to all 
visitors. The other avenue, and the one most in use, 
was winding and straggling ; it led straight up to 
the old-fashioned stone porch which guarded the 
entrance, and enshrined in the most protective and 
cozy manner the principal doors to the house. 

Avonsyde had belonged to the Lovels for eight 
hundred years. They were not a rich family and 
they had undergone many misfortunes ; the property 
now belonged to the younger branch ; for a couple 


6 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


of hundred years ago a very irate and fiery Squire 
Lovel had disinherited his eldest son and had be- 
stowed all his fair lands and the old place upon a 
younger son. From that moment matters had not 
gone well with the family ; the younger son who in 
herited the property which should have been his 
brother’s made an unfortunate marriage, had sickly 
children, many of whom died, and not being himself 
either too strong-minded or in any sense overwise, 
had sustained severe money losses, and for the first 
time within the memory of man some of the Avon- 
syde lands had to be sold. 

From the date of the disinheritance of the elder 
branch the family never regained either their wealth 
or prestige ; generation after generation the Lovels 
dwindled in strength and became less and less able 
to cope with their sturdier neighbors. The last 
squire of Avonsyde had one sickly son and two 
daughters ; the son married, but died before his 
father, leaving no son to inherit the old place. This 
son had also, in the family’s estimation, married 
beneath him, and during the squire’s lifetime his 
daughters were afraid even to mention the names 
of two bonny little lasses who were pining away 
their babyhood and early youth in poky London 
lodgings, and who would have been all the better 
for the fresh breezes which blew so genially round 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


7 


Avonsyde. After the death of his son Squire Lovel 
became very morose and disagreeable. He pretend- 
ed not to grieve for his son, but he also lost all in- 
terest in life. One by one the old pleasures in 
which he used to delight were given up, his health 
gave way rapidly, and at last the end drew near. 

There came a day when Squire Lovel felt so ill 
that he sent first of all for the family doctor and 
then for the family solicitor. He occupied the 
doctor’s attention for about ten minutes, but he was 
closeted with the lawyer for two or three hours. 
At the end of that time he sent for his daughters 
and made some strong statements to them. 

“ Grizel,” he said, addressing the elder Miss Lovel, 
“ Dr. Maddon has just informed me that I am not 
long for this world.” 

“ Dr. Maddon is fond of exaggerating matters,” 
said Miss Grizel in a voice which she meant to be 
soothing ; “ neither Katharine nor I think you very 
ill, father, and — and ” 

The squire raised his eyebrows impatiently. 

“ We won’t discuss the question of whether Mad- 
don is a wise man or a silly one, Griselda,” he said, 
“ I know myself that I am ill. I am not only ill, I 
am weak, and arguing with regard to a foregone 
conclusion is wearisome. I have much to talk to 
you and Katharine about, so will you sit down 
quietly and listen to me ?” 


8 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Miss Griselda was a cold-mannered and perhaps 
cold-natured woman. Miss Katharine, on the con- 
trary, was extremely tender-hearted ; she looked 
appealingly at her old father’s withered face ; but 
she had always been submissive, and she now fol- 
lowed her elder sister’s lead and sat down quietly 
on the nearest chair. 

“We will certainly not worry you with needless 
words, father,” said Miss Griselda gently. “You 
have doubtless many directions to give us about the 
property ; your instructions shall of course be carried 
out to the best of my ability. Katharine, too, al- 
though she is not the strongest-minded of mortals, 
will no doubt* from a sense of filial affection, also 
respect your wishes.” 

“ I am glad the new poultry -yard is complete,” 
here half-sobbed Miss Katharine, “and that valuable 
new breed of birds arrived yesterday ; and I — I ” 

“ Try to stop talking, both of you,” suddenly ex- 
claimed the squire. “ I am dying, and Avonsyde is 
without an heir. Griselda, will you oblige me by 
going down to the library and bringing up out of 
the book-case marked D that old diary of my great- 
grandfather’s, in which are entered the particulars 
of the quarrel ?” 

Miss Katharine looked in an awe- struck and 
startled way at her sister. Miss Griselda rose at 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


9 


once and, with a bunch of keys in her hand, went 
downstairs. 

The moment she had left the room Miss Katha- 
rine got up timidly and, with a certain pathos, 
stooped dowrn and kissed the old man’s swollen 
hand. 

The little action was done so simply and naturally 
that the fierce old face relaxed, and for an instant 
the wrinkled hand touched Miss Katharine’s gray 
head. 

“ Yes, Kitty, I know you love me ; but I hate the 
feminine weakness of tears. Ah, Kitty, you were a 
fair enough looking maid once, but time has faded 
and changed you ; you are younger than Grizel, but 
you have worn far worse.” 

Miss Katharine did not say a word, but hastily 
resumed her seat ; and when Miss Lovel returned 
with the vellum-bound diary, she had not an idea 
that her younger sister had ever moved. 

Sitting down by her father, she opened the musty 
old volume and read aloud certain passages which, 
written in fierce heat at the time, disclosed a pain- 
ful family scene. Angry words, bitter recrimina- 
tions, the sense of injustice on one side, the thirst 
for revenge on the other, were faithfully portrayed 
by the dead-and-gone chronicler. 

The squire’s lips moved in unspoken accompani- 


10 


THE LAD 7 OF THE FOREST. 


ment to the words whioh his daughter read aloud, 
and Miss Katharine bent eagerly forward in order 
not to lose a syllable. 

“ I am dying, and there is no male heir to Avon- 
syde,” said the squire at last. “Griselda and 
Katharine, I wish to state here distinctly that my 
great-great-grandfather made a mistake when he 
turned the boy Rupert from the old place. Valen- 
tine should have refused to inherit ; it is doubtless 
because of Valentine’s weakness and his father’s 
spirit of revenge that I die to-day without male 
issue to inherit Avonsyde.” 

“ Heaping recriminations on the dead won’t help 
matters now,” said Miss Griselda in a sententious 
voice. As she spoke she closed the diary, clasped it 
and locked it, and Miss Katharine, starting to her 
feet, said : 

“ There are the children in London, your grand- 
children, father, and our nearest of kin.” 

The squire favored his younger daughter with a 
withering look, and even Miss Griselda started at 
what were very bold words. 

“ Those children,” said the squire — “girls, both of 
them, sickly, weakly, with Valentine’s miserable 
pink-and- white delicacy and their low-born mother’s 
vulgarity ; I said I would never see them, and I 
surely do not wish to hear about them now. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. H 

Griselda, there is no one plain and manifest duty 
before you — I lay it as my dying charge on you and 
Katharine. I leave the search which you are to in- 
stitute as your mission in life. While }^ou both live 
Avonsyde is yours, but you must search the world 
over if necessary for Rupert Lovel’s descendants ; 
and when you discover them you are to elect a 
bonny stalwart boy of the house as your heir. No 
matter whether he is eldest or youngest, whether he 
is in a high position or a low position in the social 
scale, provided he is a lineal descendant of the 
Rupert Lovel who was disinherited in 1684, and 
provided also he is strong and upright and well- 
featured, with muscle and backbone and manliness 
in him, you are to appoint him your heir, and you 
are to bequeath to him the old house, and the old 
lands, and all the money you can save by simple and 
abstemious living. I have written it down in my 
will, and you are tied firmly, both of you, and can- 
not depart from my instructions ; but I wished to 
talk over matters with you, for Katharine there is 
slow to take in a thing , and you, Grizel, are prej- 
udiced and rancorous in your temper, and I wish 
you both clearly to understand that the law binds 
you to search for my heir, and this, if you want to 
inherit a shilling from me during your lifetime, you 
must do. Remember, however, and bear ever 


12 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST, 


strongly in mind, that if, when you find the family, 
the elder son is weakly and the younger son is 
strong, it is to the sturdj 7 boy that the property is 
to go ; and hark you yet again, Griselda and 
Katharine, that the property is not to go to the 
father if he is alive, but to the young boy, and the 
boy is to be educated to take up his rightful 
position. A strong lad, a manly and stalwart lad, 
mind you ; for Avonsyde has almost ceased to exist, 
owing to sickly and effeminate heirs, since the time 
when my great-great-grandfatherquarreled with his 
son, Kupert Lovel, and gave the old place to that 
weakly stripling Valentine. I am a descendant of 
Valentine myself, but, ’pon my word, I rue the 
day.” 

“Your directions shall be obeyed to the letter,” 
said Miss Griselda; but Miss Katherine interrupted 
her. 

“ And we — we have only a life-interest in the 
property, father?” she inquired in a quavering 
voice. 

The old squire looked up into his younger daugh- 
ter’s face and laughed. 

“Why, what more would you want, Kitty? No 
longer young nor fair and with no thought of 
marrying— what is money to you after your death ?” 

“ I was thinking of the orphan children in Lon- 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


13 


don,” continued Miss Katharine, with increasing 
firmness of manner and increasing trembling of 
voice. “ They are very poor, and — and — they are 
Valentine’s children, and — and — you have never 
seen them, father.” 

“ And never mean to,” snapped the squire. 
“Griselda, I believe I have now given implicit 
directions. Katharine, don’t be silly. I don’t mean 
to see those children and I won’t be worried about 
them.” 

At this moment the door behind the squire, which 
was very thick and made of solid oak, worn nearly 
black with age, was opened softly, and a clear voice 
exclaimed : 

“ Why, what a funny room ! Do come in, Kitty. 
Oh, what a beautiful room, and what a funny, queer 
old man !” 

Miss Griselda and Miss Katharine both turned 
round abruptly. Miss Griselda made a step toward 
the door to shut it against some unexpected and 
unwelcome intruder. The old man muttered: 

“ That is a child’s voice — one of the village urchins, 
no doubt.” 

But before Miss Griselda could reach the door — 
in short, before any of the little party assembled in 
the dying squire’s bedroom could do anything but 
utter disjointed exclamations, a child, holding a 


14 


THE LAD Y OF THE FOREST. 


younger child the hand, marched boldly and 
with the air of one perfectly at home into the 
chamber. 

“ What a very nice room, and what funny ladies, 
and oh! what a queer, cross old man! Don’t be 
frightened, Kitty, we’ll walk right through. There’s 
a door at the other end — maybe we’ll find grand- 
father in the room beyond the door at that end.” 

The squire’s lower jaw quite dropped as the radi- 
ant little creatures came in and filled the room with 
an unlooked-for light and beauty. They were 
dressed picturesquely, and no one for an instant could 
mistake them for the village children. The eldest 
child might have been seven ; she was tall and 
broad, with large limbs, a head crowned with a 
great wealth of tangly, fuzzy, nut-brown hair, eyes 
deeply set, very dark in color, a richly tinted dark 
little face, and an expression of animation which 
showed in the dancing eyes, in the dancing limbs, 
in the smiling, dimpled, confident mouth ; her proud 
little head was well thrown back ; her attitude was 
totally devoid of fear. The younger child was fair 
with a pink-and-white complexion, a quantity of 
golden, sunny hair, and eyes as blue as the sky ; she 
could not have been more than four years old, and 
was round-limbed and dimpled like a baby. 

“ Who are you, my dears 2” said Miss Katharine 


THE LAD 7 OF THE FOREST 1 


15 


when she could speak. Miss Katharine was quite 
trembling, and she could not help smiling at the 
lovely little pair. Squire Lovel and Miss Grizel 
were still frowning, but Miss Katharine’s voice was 
very gentle. 

“ Who are you, my dear little children ?” she re- 
peated, gaining courage and letting an affectionate 
inflection steal into her voice. 

“ I’m Kitty,” said the younger child, putting her 
finger to her lip and looking askance at the elder 
girl, “ and she — she’s Rachel.” 

“ You had better let me tell it, Kitty,” inter- 
rupted Rachel. “ Please, we are going through the 
house — we want to see everything. Kitty doesn’t 
want to as badly as me, but she always does what I 
tell her. We are going straight on into the next 
room, for we want to find grandfather. I’m Rachel 
Lovel and this is Kitty Lovel. Our papa used to 
live here when he was a little boy, and we want to 
find grandfather, please. Oh, what a cross old man 
that is sitting in the chair !” 

While Rachel was making her innocent and con- 
fident speech, Miss Katharine’s face turned deadly 
pale ; she was afraid even to glance at her father 
and sister. The poor lady felt nearly paralyzed, 
and was dimly wondering how she could get such 
audacious intruders out of the room. 


16 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Rachel having finished her speech remained silent 
for a quarter of a minute ; then taking Kitty’s hand 
she said : 

“ Come along, Kit, we may find grandfather in 
the other room. We’ll go through the door at that 
end, and perhaps we’ll come to grandfather at last.” 

Kitty heaved a little sigh of relief, and the two 
were preparing to scamper past the deep embrasure 
of the mullioned window, when a stern voice star- 
tled the little adventurers, and arresting them in 
their flight, caused them to wheel swiftly round. 

“Come here,” said Squire Lovel. 

He had never spoken more sternly ; but the mites 
had not a bit of fear. They marched up to him 
boldly, and Kitty laid her dimpled baby finger, with 
a look of inquiry, on his swollen old hand: 

“ What a funny fat hand !” 

“ What did you say you called yourself ?” said the 
squire, lifting Rachel’s chin and peering into her 
dark face. “Griselda and Katharine, I’ll thank 
you not to stand staring and gaping. What did 
you call yourself? What name did you say be- 
longed to you, child ? I’m hard of hearing ; tell me 
again.” 

“I’m Rachel Valentine Lovel,” repeated the child 
in a confident tone. “ I was called after my mam- 
ma and after father — father’s in heaven, and it 


THE LADY OE THE FOREST. 


1 ? 


makes my mother cry to say Valentine, so I’m 
Rachel ; and this is Kitty — her real name is 
Katharine — Katharine Lovel. We have come in a 
dog-cart, and mother is downstairs, and we want to 
see all the house, and particularly the tower, and 
we want to see grandfather, and we want a bunch 
of grapes each.” 

All the time Rachel was speaking the squire kept 
regarding her more and more fiercely. When she 
said “ My mother is downstairs,” he even gave her 
a little push away. Rachel was not at all appalled ; 
she knit her own black brows and tried to imitate 
him. 

“ I never saw such a cross old man ; did you, 
Kitty? Please, old man, let us go now. We want 
to find grandfather.” 

“ Perhaps it’s a pain him got,” said Kitty, strok- 
ing the swollen hand tenderly. “ Mother says 
when Ps got a pain I can’t help looking cross.” 

The fierce old eyes turned slowly from one lovely 
little speaker to the other; then the squire raised 
his head and spoke abruptly. 

“ Griselda and Katharine, come here. Have the 
goodness to tell me who this child resembles,” 
pointing as he spoke to Rachel. “ Look at her well, 
study her attentively, and don’t both answer at 
once.” 


18 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


There was not the slightest fear of Miss Kath- 
arine interrupting Miss Griselda on this occasion. 
She only favored dark-eyed little Rachel with a 
passing glance ; but her eyes, full of tears, rested 
long on the fair little baby face of Kitty. 

“This child in all particulars resembles the 
portrait of our great-uncle Rupert,” said Miss 
Griselda, nodding at Rachel as she did so. “ The 
same eyes, the same lift of the eyebrows, and the 
same mouth.” 

“And this one,” continued the squire, turning 
his head and pointing to Kitty — “this one, Grisel- 
da ? Katharine, you need not speak.” 

“This one,” continued Miss Griselda, “has the 
weakness and effeminate beauty of my dead 
brother Valentine.” 

“ Kitty isn’t weak,” interrupted Rachel ; “ she’s 
as strong as possible. She only had croup once, 
and she never takes cold, and she only was ill for a 
little because she was very hungry. Please, old 
man, stop staring so hard and let us go now. We 
want to find our grandfather.” 

But instead of letting Rachel go Squire Lovel •* 
stretched out his hand and drew her close to him. 

“Sturdy limbs, dark face, breadth of figure,” 
he muttered, “and you are my grandchild — the 
image of Rupert; yes, the image of Rupert Lovel. 

I wish to God, child, you were a boy !” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


19 


“Your grandchild !” repeated Each el. “Are you 
my grandfather \ Kitty, Kitty, is this our grand- 
father ?” 

“Him’s pain is better,” said Kitty. “I see a 
little laugh ’ginning to come round his mouth. 
Him’s not cross. Let us kiss our grandfader, 
Rachel.” 

Up went two rosy, dimpled pairs of lips to the 
withered old cheeks, and two lovely little pairs of 
arms were twined round Squire Lovel’s neck. 

“We have found our grandfather,” said Rachel. 
“ Row let’s go downstairs at once and bring mother 
up to see him.” 

“ Ho, no, stop that !” said the squire, suddenly 
disentangling himself from the pretty embrace. 
“ Griselda and Katharine, this scene is too much for 
me. I should not be agitated — those children 
should not intrude on me. Take care of them — 
take particular care of the one who is like Rupert. 
Take her away now ; take them both away ; and, 
hark you, do not let the mother near me. I’ll have 
nothing to say to the mother; she is nothing to me. 
Take the children out of the room and come back to 
me presently, both of you.” 


20 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER II. 

MAKING TEEMS. 

The moment the two little girls found themselves 
outside their grandfather’s door they wrenched 
their little hands away from Miss Griselda's and 
Miss Katharine’s, and with a gay laugh like two 
wild, untamed birds flew down the wide oak stair- 
case and across the hall to a room where a woman, 
dressed very soberly, waited for them. She was 
sitting on the edge of a hard cane-bottomed chair, 
her veil was down, and her whole attitude was one 
of tense and nervous watchfulness. The children 
ran to her with little cries of rapture, climbed 
together on her knee, pulled up her veil, and 
nearly smothered her pale dark face with kisses. 

“ Mother, mother, mother, he was so cross!” 

“He had pain, mother, and him’s eyes was 
wrinkled up so.” 

“But, mother, we gave him a kiss, and he said J 
was strong and Kitty was weak. We have not 
seen the tower yet, and we haven’t got our grapes, 
and there are two old ladies, and we don’t like them 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


21 


much, and we ran away from them — and — oh, here 
they are !” 

The children clung tightly to their mother, who 
struggled to her feet, pushed them aside with a 
gesture almost of despair, and came up at once to 
the two Miss Lovels. 

“ I know this visit is unwarranted ; I know it is 
considered an intrusion. The children’s father was 
born here, but there is no welcome for them ; 
nevertheless I have brought them. They are 
beautiful children — look at them. No fairer 
daughters of your house ever were born than these 
two. Look at Eachel ; look at Kitty. Is it right 
they should be brought up with no comforts in a 
poor London lodging? Rachel, kiss your aunts. 
Kitty, little one, kiss your aunts and love them.” 

Kachel skipped up gayly to the two stiff old 
ladies, but Kitty began at last to be influenced by 
the frowns which met her on all sides ; she pouted, 
turned her baby face away, and buried it in her 
mother’s lap. 

“Look at them — are they not beautiful?” con- 
tinued the mother. “ Is it fair that they should be 
cooped up in a London lodging when their father 
belonged to this place ? I ask you both — you who 
are my husband’s sisters; you who were children 
when he was a child, who used to play with him 


22 THE LAD Y OF THE FOREST. 

and kiss him, and learn your lessons out of the 
same book, and to sleep in the same nursery — is it 
fair?” 

“ It is not fair,” said Miss Katharine suddenly. 
She seemed carried quite out of herself ; her eyes 
shone, and the pink of a long-gone beauty returned 
with a transient gleam to her faded cheek. “ It is 
not fair,” she repeated. “ Ko, Griselda, I am not 
afraid of you. I will say what is in my mind. 
Valentine’s face speaks to me again out of the baby 
face of that dear little child. What was Rupert 
Lovel to us that we should place a likeness to him 
before a likeness to our own dead brother? I say 
it is unfair that Valentine’s children should have 
neither part nor lot in his old home. I, for one, am 
willing to welcome them to Avonsyde.” 

Miss Griselda had always a most placid face ; she 
now said in her calmest tones : 

“ There is no need to excite yourself, Katharine. 
I too think the children have a claim on us. An 
arrangement can easily be made about the children 
— their mother is the difficulty.” 

The face of the plainly dressed young woman 
could scarcely grow any paler. She gave a quick, 
very quick glance at handsome little Rachel, who 
stood with her head thrown back and her eyes 
eagerly watching each movement of the excited 


THE LADY OF THE FOIIEST. 


23 


group around her ; then the mother’s hand touched 
Kitty’s golden head with a very faint caressing 
touch, and then she spoke : 

“ I have come to make terms. I knew I should 
be considered an obstacle, but that is a mistake. I 
will be none. I am willing — I am willing to 
obliterate myself. I would talk to you and make 
terms, but I would make them alone — I mean I 
would rather not make them in the presence of the 
children.” 

“ I will take the children,” said Miss Katharine 
eagerly ; “they want to see the house ; I will take 
them round. They want grapes ; I will take them 
to the vineries.” 

“ Oh, yes, we want grapes,” said Kachel in an 
excited voice ; “ we want lots of grapes — don’t we, 
Kitty?” 

“ Yes ; lots,” answered Kitty, turning her flushed 
little face once more to view. She had been hiding 
it for the last few minutes against her mother’s 
black dress. 

“ That is my father’s bell,” said Miss Griselda 
suddenly. “ I must hurry to him. I will see you 
presently, Mrs. Lovel ; and, Katharine, you too must 
be present at our interview. I must ask Mrs. 
Martin to take the children round the place.” 

Miss Griselda opened the thick oak door of the 


24 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


squire’s bedroom and went in. Her face was 
changed in expression and her usual self-possession 
had to a certain extent deserted her. 

“ What an age you have been away, Grizel,” said 
the old man testily. u You might have known that 
I’d want you. Did I not tell you to take the 
children out of the room and to come back to me 
presently ? Did you not hear me when I said, 
‘Come back to me presently?’ Oh, I see how 
things are 1” continued the irate old man, with a 
burst of fury. “ I am weak and ill now and my 
commands are nothing — my wishes are not of the 
slightest consequence. I know how it will be when 
I’m gone. You and Katharine promise faithfully to 
obey me now, but you’ll forget your promises when 
I’m gone. Even you, Griselda, who have always 
had the character of being strong-minded, will think 
nothing of your given word when I’m in my 
grave.” 

“ You’re tired, father,” said Miss Griselda, “and 
the unexpected intrusion of the children has excited 
you. Let me pour you out a dose of your restora- 
tive medicine. Here, drink this ; now you will feel 
better.” 

The old squire’s hand shook so much that he could 
not hold the glass which Miss Griselda tendered to 
him ; but she held it herself to his lips, and when 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


25 


he bad drained off its contents he grew a shade 
calmer. 

“ One of those children is very like Rupert Lovel,” 
he murmured. “A strong girl, with a bold, fine 
face. You never would have supposed that that 
weak stripling Yalentine would have had a child of 
that build, would you, Grizel ?” 

“ No, father. But the little girl has a likeness to 
her mother, and it is about the mother I have now 
come to speak to you. Oh, come now, you must 
try and listen to me. You must not get over-ex- 
cited, and you must not begin to talk absolute rub- 
bish about my disobeying your wishes ; for you have 
positively got to settle something about Valentine’s 
children.” 

“ I said I’d have nothing to sav to them.” 

“Very likely ; but you said so before you saw them. 
Having seen them, it is absolutely impossible for 
you to turn Valentine’s orphan children from the 
doors. Their mother cannot support them, and she 
has brought them to us and we must not turn them 
away. I may as well teli you plainly that I will 
never consent to the children being sent away from 
Avonsyde. I won’t wait to disobey you until you 
are dead in that matter. I shall do so at once, and 
quite openly, for I could never have another easy 
night on my pillow if I thought Valentine’s chil- 
dren were starving.” 


26 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“Who wants them to starve?” grumbled the 
squire. 

But Miss Griselda’s firm words had an effect, and 
he lowered his chin on his chest and looked gloomi- 
ly straight before him. 

“ The mother has come here to make terms,” said 
Miss Griselda. “ Now what shall they be ?” 

“At least she shall not sleep under my roof! A 
low girl — no match for Valentine ! If I said it once 
I repeat it fifty times. I will never look on that 
woman’s face, Grizel !” 

“ I don’t want you to, father. I agree with you 
that she had better go. Now let me tell you, in as 
few words as I can, what I intend to propose to 
Katharine and to Mrs. Lovel, with your sanction, 
presently. The children must stay at Avonsyde. 
If the heir is never found, well and good ; they are 
provided for. If, on the other hand, the heir turns 
up, they are, according to the present conditions of 
your will, absolutely penniless. Now I don’t choose 
this. Valentine’s children must be provided for 
under any emergency, and you must make a fresh 
codicil to your will.” 

“ I will not !” 

“ Father, you must. Valentine was your own son ; 
these children are your rightful and legitimate 
heirs. I am heart and soul with you in your wish 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


27 


to find the lawful descendant of Eupert Lovel — I 
promise to devote my life to this search ; but 
Valentine’s children must not go penniless. You 
must make a codicil to your will providing comfort- 
ably for them in case the lawful heir turns up.” 

How can I ? The doctor says I have not many 
hours to live.” 

“ Long enough for that, no doubt. We cannot, un- 
fortunately, send for Mr. Baring from London, but 
I will send a man on horseback to Southampton, 
and Mr. Terry, the Barings’ country partner, will 
be here in two or three hours.” 

“ I tell you I have only a few hours to live,” re- 
peated the squire, sinking his head lower on his 
chest and looking daggers at his daughter. 

“ Long enough for that,” she repeated. 

She rose from her seat and went across the room 
to ring the bell. When the servant entered the 
room she gave some very clear and emphatic direc- 
tions, and then desiring the nurse who waited on 
her father to be summoned, she left the room. 

Her interview had scarcely been a peaceable one, 
and as she went downstairs her usually calm ex- 
pression was considerably disturbed. 

“ I can make terms with the mother now,” she 
murmured. “ But I am not going even to tell my 
father what they are.” And she went downstairs. 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


2S 


Floating in through the open window came the 
sound of gay, childish mirth, and looking out she 
saw the little strangers dancing and laughing and 
chatting merrily to old Mrs. Martin, the house- 
keeper, as she took them round the grounds. 

Then Miss Griselda went downstairs, and she and 
Miss Katharine had their interview with the grave, 
quiet young mother, who had come, as she said, to 
make terms. No one heard what they said to her 
nor what she said to them ; no one knew what 
arrangements were arrived at between the three ; 
no one guessed either then or long years afterward 
what the terms were. When the somewhat pro- 
tracted interview had come to an end, the young 
mother left Miss Griselda’s study with her veil 
drawn tightly over her face. If her eyes were red 
and her lips trembled, no one noticed those signs of 
grief through her thick crape veil. Miss Griselda 
offered her food, and Miss Katherine wanted to take 
her hand and wring it with a kindly pressure ; but she 
shook her head at the one and drew back proudly 
from the other’s proffered hand shake. 

The dog-cart was waiting at a side entrance, and 
she got into it and drove away. Nor did she once 
look back as she drove down the long straight 
avenue under the shade of the old forest trees. 

That night Squire Lovel said a word or two to 
his daughters. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


29 


“So you have kept the children ?” 

“We have kept the children,” repeated Miss 
Griselda tersely. 

“ It is nothing to me. I have made that codicil 
to my will. You have had your way in that.” 

“ You have done justice, father — you will die hap- 
pier,” replied Miss Griselda. 

“ Have you made arrangements with the mother?” 
questioned the squire. 

“ The mother will not trouble us ; we have ar- 
ranged with her,” answered the elder Miss Lovel. 

“We have made arrangements with her,” echoed 
Miss Katharine, and here she bent her head and 
gave vent to a little choking sob. 

The squire was very restless all night, and several 
times the words “Kitty” and “Valentine” escaped 
his lips. The end was near and the poor old brain 
was wandering. 

Toward morning he was left alone for a few 
moments with Miss Katharine. 

“ Father,” she said suddenly, kneeling by his bed- 
side, clasping his hand, and looking at him implor- 
ingly, “ father, you would bid us be kind to Valen- 
tine’s children ?” 

“Valentine’s children?” repeated the old man. 
“ Ay, ay, Kitty. My head wanders. Are they 
Valentine’s children or Rupert’s children? — the 


30 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Rupert who should have inherited Avonsyde. Some- 
body’s children were here to-day, but I cannot 
remember whether they belonged to Valentine or 
Rupert.” 

“ Father, they belong to Valentine — to your son 
Valentine. You are dying. May I bring them to 
you, and will you bless them before you go ?” 

The old squire looked up at his daughter with 
dim and fading eyes. She did not wait to listen for 
any assent from his lips, but flying from the room, 
returned presently with two rosy, cherub-like crea- 
tures. 

“ Kiss your grandfather, Kitty ; his pain is bad. 
Kiss him tenderly, dear little child.” 

Kitty pursed up her full red lips and gave the re- 
quired salute solemnly. 

“ Row, Rachel, kiss your grandfather ; he is very 
ill.” 

Rachel too raised herself on tiptoe, and bending 
forward touched the old man’s lips lightly with her 
own. 

“ Rupert’s child,” he murmured ; “ ay, ay, just like 
Rupert.” 

Shortly afterward he died. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


31 


CHAPTER III. 

PREPARING FOR THE HEIR 

“ I wonder, Bachel,” said Kitty, u I wonder when 
the heir will be found.” 

Rachel had curled herself up in a luxurious arm- 
chair, was devouring a new story-book, and was in 
consequence displeased with Kitty for her question. 

“ Let me read, Kitty. In half an hour I have to 
go to my drill, and then practicing, and then learn- 
ing those tiresome lessons. I don’t care if an heir 
is never found ; do let me read !” 

“ There’s another one coming to-morrow,” con- 
tinued Kitty in a by no means abashed voice ; “ his 
name is Philip and his mother is coming with him. 
I heard Aunt Grizel telling Mrs. Eyre all about it, 
and, Rachel — oh, Rachel, do listen ! they are to 
sleep in the bedroom directly under Aunt Katha- 
rine’s and Aunt Grizel’s room in the tower.” 

This last piece of information was sufficiently in- 
teresting to Rachel to make her fling down her 
book with an impetuous gesture. 

“ What a tiresome Kitty you are. I never can 


32 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


read when you come into the room. I was in a 
most exciting part, but never mind. My half-hour 
of quiet will be gone in no time. I had better keep 
the book until I can steal away into the forest and 
read it in peace.” 

“ But isn’t it exciting,” pursued Kitty, “ to think 
that they are going to sleep in the tower bedroom ?” 

“ And his name is Philip !” repeated Rachel. 
“ Philip is the name of this one — the last was Guy, 
and the one before was Ferdinand, and the one be- 
fore that was Augustus. I want an heir to come of 
the name of Zerubbabel. I like Zerubbabel, and 
it’s uncommon. What a pity this one’s name is 
Philip !” 

“Oh, he’s not the real heir,” said little Kitty, 
shaking her head solemnly; “he’s only another 
make-believe ; but it’s rather exciting his mother 
coming too and the tower room being prepared. 
Rachel, aren’t you almost certain that when the 
real, true heir comes his name will be Rupert? Why, 
of course it must be Rupert — mustn’t it, Rachel ?” 

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” answered 
Rachel, tumbling out of her luxurious chair and 
shaking back her dark, untidy locks. “ How old is 
Philip, Kitty ? Poor Philip, I wish him joy of the 
place! He’ll find it dull enough, and he’ll find 
Aunt Grizel very tiresome and Aunt Katharine very 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


33 


sweet, but very stupid, and he’ll wish he wasn't the 
heir a thousand times in the twenty-four hours. 
How old is he, Kitty-cat? Just tell me quickly, for 
I must go.” 

“ He’s eight years old,” replied Kitty in a very 
interested tone ; “ that’s another thing that’s excit- 
ing — his being so near to my age. Aunt Grizel 
says that he’ll be a sort of a companion for me. I 
do hope he’ll be a nice little boy.” 

“ I don’t care anything at all about him,” said 
Kachel ; “ he may be the heir or he may not. I’m 
not in the least interested. I don’t see anything 
exciting in the fact of a stupid little boy coming to 
Avonsyde with his mother ; it’s a slow place and 
he’ll have a slow life, and there’s nothing to interest 
me about it.” 

“ Oh, Kachel, 1 never could guess that you found 
Avonsyde slow. If you do, why do you laugh so 
merrily and why do you look so gay?” 

“ I never said that I found Avonsyde dull,” an- 
swered Kachel, turning round with a quick, flash- 
ing movement. “No place is slow or dull to me. 
But I’m not going to stay here; I’m going to 
school, and then afterward I’m going right round 
the world looking for mother. Oh, that’s my drill- 
sergeant’s bell! What a worry he is! Good-by, 
Kitty-cat.” 


34 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Rachel skipped out of the room, banging the 
door after her, and Kitt} r climbed into her chair, 
and leaning back in it shut her pretty blue eyes. 

It was five years now since the children had come 
to Avonsyde, and Kitty had absolutely forgotten 
the dismal day of their arrival. She knew that she 
had a mother, for Rachel reminded her of the fact ; 
but she could recall no outline of her face. 

Rachel not only spoke of her mother, but remem- 
bered her. Yivid memories of a grave, sweet, sad 
face came to her at intervals, and when these 
memories visited the child longings came also. 
Why had her mother gone away? Why were 
Kitty and she practically motherless ? Who were 
the wicked people who had divided this mother and 
these children ? 

When these thoughts came Rachel’s dark little 
face would work with strong emotion ; and if Aunt 
Griselda or Aunt Katharine happened to be near, 
she would feel tempted to answer them defiantly 
and to favor them with flashing, angry glances. 

“ I miss my mother !” she would sob sometimes 
at night. “I wish — oh, how I wish I could give 
her a long, big, great kiss ! Weil, never mind : when 
I am old enough I’ll go all round the world looking 
for her, for I know she is not dead.” 

These storms of grief did not come often, and on 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


35 


the whole the children had spent five very happy 
years at Avonsyde. Aunt Grizel and Aunt Katha- 
rine had each in her own way been good to them — 
Aunt Grizel erring on the side of over-severity, Aunt 
Katharine on the side of over-indulgence. But the 
children had no fear in their natures, and were so 
bright and frank and charming that even Aunt 
Katharine’s petting could not do them any harm. 
They were well taught and well cared for, and were 
universal favorites wherever they went — the ex- 
treme side of Kitty being prone to over-tenderness ; 
the extreme side of Rachel to over-brusqueness and 
almost fierceness. 

Miss Griselda and Miss Katharine said very little 
about their affection for the children — very little 
either to the children themselves or to one another. 
They were reserved women and thought it undigni- 
fied to speak of their feelings. Neither Rachel nor 
Kitty was at all proud of being Lovels of Avonsyde ; 
but Miss Griselda thought her position above that 
of a countess, and Miss Katharine supported her 
great honors with a meek little air of becoming 
pride. The old ladies’ great object in life was to 
find the missing heir, and Miss Griselda had even 
once picked up sufficient courage to go to America, 
accompanied by the family lawyer and his wife, in 
search of him ; but though many little boys came to 


36 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Avonsyde and many fathers and mothers sent in all 
kinds of extraordinary claims, the heir who could 
claim direct descent from Rupert Lovel, the strong 
and sturdy boy who was to bring back a fresh epoch 
of health and life and vigor to the old family tree, 
and not yet arrived. 

Now, however, shortly after Rachel’s twelfth 
birthday and in the middle of a glorious summer, 
little Philip Lovel was expected. His mother was 
to bring him and he was to sleep in the tower room, 
which, as Kitty said, was most exciting. Miss 
Griselda and Miss Katharine too were excited ; and 
Miss Griselda said with an unusual burst of confi- 
dence to her younger sister : 

u If the boy turns out to be a true descendant of 
Rupert’s, and if he is blessed with good physical 
health, I shall feel a great load off my mind.” 

Miss Katharine smiled in reply. 

“ God grant the little boy may be the heir,” she 
said ; “ but, Griselda, I don’t like the tone of the 
mother’s letters.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


37 


CHAPTER IV. 

A 8PABT AN BOY. 

“ Philip ?” 

“ Yes, mother.” 

“ You quite understand that you have got to be a 
ver}^ good little boy ?” 

“ Oh, yes, mother, I understand.” 

“ It’s a big, grand place — it’s what is described as 
an ancient place, and dates back hundreds and hun- 
dreds of years, and you, you — why, what is the 
matter, Philip?” 

“Is it antediluvian?” asked Philip, jumping up 
from his seat opposite his mother in the railway 
carriage. “ Oh, I do hope and trust it’s antedi- 
luvian !” 

“ How you do puzzle me with your queer words, 
Philip. Antediluvian ! — that means before the 
Flood. Oh, no, Avonsyde wasn’t in existence be- 
fore the Flood ; but still it is very old, and the ladies 
who live there are extremely grand people. You 
haven’t been accustomed to living in a great ancient 
house, and you haven’t been accustomed to the man- 


38 


THE LAD Y OF THE FOREST. 


ner of such grand ancient ladies as the Misses Gri- 
selda and Katharine Lovel, and I do trust — I do hope 
you will behave properly.” 

“ Hullo ! There’s a spider up in that window,” 
interrupted the boy. “ I must try to catch him. 
There ! he has run into his hole. Oh, mother, 
mother, look ! there’s a windmill ! See, it’s going 
round so fast ! And, I say, isn’t that a jolly river ? 
I want to fish and to shoot when I get to the grand 
place. I don’t care what else I do if only I have 
plenty of fishing and shooting.” 

Philip Lovel’s mother knit her brows. She w r as a 
tall, fashionably dressed woman, with a pale face, a 
somewhat peevish expression, and a habit of draw- 
ing her eyebrows together until they nearly met. 

“ Philip, you must attend to me,” she, said, draw- 
ing the little bo} r down to stand quietly by her side. 
“ I have got you a whole trunkful of nice gentle- 
manly clothes, and I have spent a heap of money 
over you, and you must — yes, you must please the 
old ladies. Why, Phil, if this scheme fails we shall 
starve.” 

“ Oh, don’t, mother, don’t !” said little Phil, look- 
ing full up into his mother’s face, and revealing as 
he did so two sensitive and beautiful brown eyes, 
the only redeeming features in a very plain little 
countenance. “ Don’t cry, mother ! I’ll be a good 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


39 


boy, of course. Now, may I go back and see if that 
spider has come out of his hole ?” 

“ No, Philip, never mind the spider. I have you 
all to myself, and we shall be at Avonsyde in less 
than an hour. I want to impress it upon you, so 
that you may keep it well in your memory what 
you are to do. Now, are you listening to me, 
Phil?” 

“ I am trying to,” answered Philip. “ I do hope, 
mother, you won’t tell me too many things, for I 
never can remember anything for more than a 
minute at a time.” 

Philip smiled and looked up saucily, but Mrs. 
Lovel was far too much absorbed in what she was 
about to say to return his smiling glance. 

u Philip, I trained you badly,” she began. “You 
were let run wild ; you were let do pretty much as 
you liked ; you weren’t at all particularly obedient. 
Now, I don’t at all want the Miss Lovels to find 
that out. You are never to tell how you helped 
Betty with the cakes, and you are never to tell 
about polishing your own boots, and you are not to 
let out for a moment how you and I did our own 
gardening. If you speak of Betty you must call 
her your nurse ; and if you speak of Jim, who was 
such a troublesome boy, you can mention him as the 
gardener, and not say that he was only twelve 
years old.” 


40 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“What a lot of lies I’m to tell,” said Philip, open- 
ing his eyes wider and wider. “ Go on, mother — 
what else am I to do?” 

Mrs. Lovel gave the little speaker a shake. 

“ Philip, what an exasperating child you are ! Of 
course you are not to be so wicked as to attempt to 
tell lies. Oh, what a bad boy you are even to think 
of such a thing ! I only want you to be a nice, 
gentlemanly little boy and not to speak of vulgar 
things, and of course it is very vulgar to allude to 
a maid-of-all-work like Betty and to cleaning one’s 
own boots ; but as to lies — what do you mean, sir ? 
Oh, there, the train is slackening speed. We’ll soon 
be at the station, and the carriage was to meet us. 
Kemember, Philip, always be on your best behavior 
at Avonsyde ! Don’t speak unless you are spoken 
to, and always be on the lookout to please the old 
ladies. There are two little girls, I believe ; but 
they are not of the slightest consequence. Dear, 
dear, I feel quite trembling ! I hope — I trust all 
will go well ! Philip, dear, you have not felt that 
pain in your side all day, have you ?” 

“ No, mother ; I have not felt it for days. I am 
much better really.” 

“ I don’t want you to speak of it, love. I am 
most anxious that the ladies should consider you a 
strong boy. The doctors say you are almost cer- 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


41 


tain to get over the pain ; and when the Miss Lovels 
appoint you their heir it will be time enough to 
mention it. If the pain comes on very badly you 
will keep it to yourself — won’t you, Phil? You 
won’t groan or scream or anything of that sort . 
and you can always run up to my room and I can 
give you the drops. Oh, Phil, Phil, if this scheme 
fails we shall simply starve !” 

Philip, with his queer, old-fashioned face, looked 
full at his mother. 

“ I’ll be a Spartan boy and bear the pain,” he 
said. “I don’t care a bit about being rich or hav- 
: ing a big place ; but I don’t want you to starve, 
mother. Oh, I say, there’s that jolly little spider 
again !” 

When the London express halted at last at the 
small country station, Philip was gazing in ecstasy 
at a marvelous complication of web and dust, at 
one or two entrapped flies, and at a very malicious 
but clever spider. His mother was shaking out her 
draperies, composing her features, and wondering — 
wondering hard how a very bold scheme would 
prosper. 

“ Jump down, Phil. Here we are !” she called to 
her boy. 

The child, an active, lithe little fellow, obeyed 
her. Not a trace of anxiety could be discerned on 


42 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


his small face. In truth, he had forgotten Avon- 
syde in the far more absorbing interest of the spider. 

“ I am glad to welcome you, Mrs. Lovel !” said 
Miss Griselda as she came forward to greet the 
new-comers. She was standing in the old hall, and 
the light from a western window of rich old stained 
glass fell in slanting hues on a very eager and in- 
terested group. Behind Miss Griselda stood her 
shadow, Miss Katharine, and Rachel’s bold dark 
face and Kitty’s sunny one could be seen still further 
in the background. Rachel pretended not to be 
the least interested in the arrival of the strangers, 
nevertheless her bright eyes looked singularly alert. 
Kitty did not attempt to hide the very keen interest 
she took in the little boy who was so nearly her 
own age, and who was to be so greatly honored as 
to sleep in the tower room. Miss Griselda and Miss 
Katharine wore their richest black silks and some 
of their most valuable lace ; for surely this was the 
real heir, and they intended to give him a befitting 
reception. The old housekeeper and one or two 
other servants might have been seen peeping in the 
distance ; they were incredulous, but curious. Mrs. 
Lovel took in the whole scene at a glance ; the as- 
pect of affairs pleased her and her versatile spirits 


THE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


43 


rose. She took Philip’s little hand in hers and led 
him up to Miss Griselda. 

“ This,” she said in a gentle and humble voice — 
“ this is my little boy.” 

“ Philip Lovel,” responded Miss Griselda, “ look 
up at me, child — full in the face. Ah ! you have 
got the Lovel eyes. How do you do, my dear? 
Welcome to Avonsyde !” 

“ Welcome to Avonsyde !” repeated Miss Katha- 
rine, looking anxiously from the fashionably dressed 
mother to the precocious boy. “ Are you very tired, 
my dear? You look so pale.” 

Phil glanced from one old lady’s face to the other. 
His mother felt herself shaking. She saw at once 
that he had forgotten their conversation in the train, 
and wondered what very malapropos remark he 
would make. Phil had a habit of going off into lit- 
tle dreams and brown-studies. He looked inquiring- 
ly at Miss Katharine ; then he gazed search ingly at 
Miss Griselda; then he shook himself and said 
abruptly : 

“ I beg your pardon — what did you ask me ?” 

« Oh, Phil, how rude !” interrupted Mrs. Lovel. 
“ The ladies asked you if you were tired, love. Tell 
them at once that you are not in the least so. Pale 
children are so often considered delicate,” continued 
Mrs. Lovel anxiously, “ whereas they are quite 


44 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


acknowledged by many physicians to be stronger 
than the rosy ones. Say you are not tired, Phil, 
and thank Miss Katharine for taking an interest in 
your health.” 

Phil smiled. 

“ Pm not tired,” he said. “ I had a pleasant 
journey. There was a spider in the carriage, and 
I saw a windmill. And oh ! please, am I to call you 
auntie, or what ?” 

“Aunt Katharine,” interposed the lady. 

“Aunt Katharine, do you fish? and may I fish ?” 

Here Kitty burst into a delighted chuckle of 
amusement, and going frankly up to Phil took his 
hand. 

“ I can fish,” she said ; “ of course Aunt Kath- 
arine can’t fish, but I can. I’ve got a rod, a nice 
little rod ; and if you are not tired you may as well 
come and see it.” 

“ Then I’m going out with my book,” said Rachel. 
“ I’m going into the forest. Perhaps I’ll meet the 
lady there. Good-by, Kitty-cat; good-by, little 
boy.” 

Rachel disappeared through one door, Kitty and 
Phil through another, and Mrs. Lovel and the two 
old ladies of Avonsyde were left to make acquaint- 
ance with one another. 

“ Come into the drawing-room,” said Miss Grisel- 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


45 


da ; “ your little boy and the children will get on 
best alone. He is a muscular-looking little fellow, 
although singularly pale. Where did you say he 
was born — in Mexico V 9 

“In Mexico,” replied Mrs. Lovel, repressing a 
sigh. “ The true Mexican lads are about the 
strongest in the world ; but he of course is really 
of English parentage, although his father and his 
grandfather never saw England. Yes, Phil was 
born in Mexico, but shortly afterward we moved 
into the American States, and before my husband 
died we had emigrated to Australia. Phil is a strong 
boy and has had the advantage of travel and con- 
stant change — that is why he is so wiry. The hot 
country in which he was born accounts for his 
pallor, but he is remarkably strong.” 

Mrs. Lovel’s words came out quickly and with 
the nervousness of one who was not very sure of a 
carefully prepared lesson. Suspicious people would 
have doubted this anxious-looking woman on the 
spot, but neither Miss Griselda nor Miss Katharine 
was at all of a su spicious turn of mind. Miss Gri- 
selda said : 

“You have traveled over a great part of the 
habitable globe and we have remained — I and my 
sister and our immediate ancestors before us — in 
the privacy and shelter of Avonsyde. To come 


46 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


here will be a great change for you and your 
boy.” 

“A great rest — a great delight!” replied Mrs. 
Lovel, clasping her hands ecstatically. “ Oh, dear 
Miss Lovel, you don’t know what it is to weary for 
a home as I have wearied.” 

Her words were genuine and tears stood in her 
pale blue eyes. 

Miss Griselda considered tears and raptures rather 
undignified; but Miss Katharine, who was very 
sympathetic, looked at the widow with new in- 
terest. 

“ It is wonderfully interesting to feel that your 
little boy belongs to us,” she said. “ He seems a 
nice little fellow, very naive and fresh. Won’t you 
sit in this comfortable chair ? You can get such a 
nice view of the forest from here. And do you take 
cream and sugar in your tea ?” 

“ A ve^ little cream and no sugar,” replied Mrs. 
Lovel as she leaned back luxuriously in the prof- 
fered chair. u What a lovely view ! And what 
a quaint, beautiful room. I remember my husband 
telling me that Avonsyde belonged to his family for 
nearly eight hundred years, and that the house was 
almost as old as the property. Is this room really 
eight hundred years old? It looks wonderfully 
quaint.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


47 


“ You happen to be in the most modern part of 
the house, Mrs. Lovel,” replied Miss Griselda icily. 
“ This drawing-room and all this wing were added 
by my grandfather, and this special room was first 
opened for the reception of company when my 
mother came here as a bride. The exact date of 
this room is a little over half a century. You shall 
see the older part of the house presently ; this part 
is very painfully modern .” 

Mrs. Lovel bowed and sipped her tea as comfort- 
ably as she could under the impression of being 
snubbed. 

“ I have never been in a very old house before,” 
she said. “ You know in Mexico, in the States, in 
Australia, the houses must be modern.” 

“ May I ask if you have brought your pedigree ?” 
inquired Miss Griselda. “ Yes, Katharine, you need 
not look at me in such a surprised manner. We 
neither of us have an idea of troubling Mrs. Lovel 
to show it to us now — not indeed until she has 
rested ; but it is absolutely necessary to trace 
Philip’s descent from Rupert Lovel at as early a 
date as possible. That being correctly ascertained 
and found to be indisputable, we must have him 
examined by some eminent physician ; and if the 
medical man pronounces him to be an extremely 
strong boy our quest is ended, and you and I, 


48 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Katharine, can rest in peace. Mrs. Lovel, you 
look very tired. Would you like to retire to your 
room ? Katharine, will you ring the bell, dear ? 
We will ask Newbolt to accompany Mrs. Lovel to 
her room and to attend on her. Kewbolt is our 
maid, Mrs Lovel, and quite a denizen of the forest ; 
she can tell you all the local traditions.” 

“ Thank you,” said Mrs. Lovel. “ Yes, I shall be 
glad to lie down for a little. I do hope Philip is 
not tiring himself — not that he is likely to ; he is so 
strong. Thank you, Miss Lovel, I will lie down for 
a little. Yes, of course I brought the pedigree — and 
— and — a very quaint house; even the new part 
looks old to me !” 

Mrs. Lovel tripped out of the room, and the two 
old ladies looked at one another. 

“What do you think of her, Katharine?” in- 
quired Miss Griselda. “ You are dying to speak, so 
let me hear your sentiments at once !” 

! “ I don’t quite like her,” said Miss Katharine. 
“ She seems very tired and very nervous, and 
perhaps it is unfair and unkind to say anything 
about her until she is rested. I can’t honestly say, 
however, that my first impression is favorable, and 
she may be much nicer when she is not so tired and 
not so nervous. I don’t like her much at present, 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


49 


bat I may afterward. What are your opinions ; 
Griselda ?” 

“Katharine,” said Miss Griselda, “you are the 
most prosaic and long-winded person I know. You 
don’t suppose for an instant that I am going to say 
what I think of Mrs. Lovel to-day. After all, it is 
the boy in whom we are interested. Time alone 
can show whether these two are not another couple 
of impostors. Now, I wonder where that child 
Kachel has taken herself 1” 


50 


TER LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTEK y. 

IN THE FOREST. 

Kitty and Philip ran off together hand in hand. 
They were about the same height, but Kitty’s fair, 
healthy, flushed face showed in strong contrast to 
Phil’s pallor, and her round and sturdy limbs gave 
promise of coming health and beauty ; whereas 
Phil’s slight form only suggested possible illness, 
and to a watchful eye would have betokened a 
short life. But the boy was wiry and just now he 
was strongly excited. It was delightful to be in 
the real country and more than delightful to go out 
with Kitty. 

“You are my cousin, aren’t you?” said the little 
maid, favoring him with a full, direct glance. 

“I suppose so,” he answered. “Yes, I suppose 
so. I don’t quite know.” 

Kitty stamped her foot. 

“ Don’t say that !” she replied. “I hate people 
who are not quite sure about things. I want to have 
a real boy cousin to play with. Two or three make- 
believes came here, but they went away again. Of 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


51 


course we all found them out at once, and they went 
away. I do trust you are not another make-believe, 
Philip. You’re very pale and very thin, but I do 
hope what’s of you is real.” 

“ Oh, yes ; what’s of me is real enough,” said 
Phil, with a little sigh. “ Where are you going to 
take me, Kitty ? Into the forest ? I want to see 
the forest. I wonder will it be as fine as the forest 

where Ku 1 mean where a cousin of mine and I 

used to play ?” 

“ Oh, have you another cousin besides me ? How 
exciting ? f 

“Yes; but I don’t want to talk about him. Are 
we going into the forest ?” 

“If you like. You see those trees over there? 
All that is forest ; and then there is a bit of wild 
moorland, and then more trees ; and there is a pine 
wood, with such a sweet smell. It's all quite close, 
and I see it every day. It isn’t very exciting when 
you see it every day. Your eves need not shine 
like that. You had much better take things quietly, 
especially as you are such a very thin boy. Aunt 
Katharine says thin people should never get ex- 
cited. She says it wears them out. Well, if you 
must come into the forest I suppose you must ; but 
would you not like something to eat first ? I know 
what we are to have for tea. Shall I tell you ?” 


52 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


“Yes,” said Phil; “tell me when we have got 
under the trees ; tell me when I am looking up 
through the branches for the birds and the squirrels. 
You have not such gay birds as ours, for I watched 
yours when I was coming in the train from South- 
ampton ; but oh ! don’t they sing !” 

“ You are a very queer boy,” said Kitty. “ Birds 
and squirrels and forest trees, when you might be 
hearing about delicious frosted cake and jam roily' 
polies. Well, take my hand and let’s run into the 
forest ; let’s get it over, if we must get it over. I’ll 
take you down to the Avon to fish to-morrow. I 
like fishing — don’t you ?” 

“Yes,” said Phil. “ I like nearly everything. Do 
you fish with flies or bait ?” 

“ Oh, with horrid bait ! that is the worst of it ; 
but I generally get Kobert — one of our grooms — to 
bait my lines.” 

The children were now under the shade of the 
trees, and Kitty, after running about until she was 
tired, climbed into one of the branches of a wide- 
spreading beech tree and rocked herself in a very 
contented manner backward and forward. Phil 
was certainly a very queer little boy, but she was 
quite convinced he must be her real true cousin, that 
he was not a make-believe, that he would stay on at 
Avonsyde as the heir, and that she would always 
have a companion of her own age to play with. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


53 


“ He will get tired of the forest by and by,” she 
said to herself, “ and then he will like best to play 
with me, and we can fish all day together. How 
jolly that will be ! What a good thing it is that he 
is so nearly my own age, and that he is not older; 
for if he were he would go everywhere with Eachel 
and be her friend. I should not like that at all,” 
concluded the little girl, with a very selfish though 
natural sigh of satisfaction. 

Presently Phil — having wandered about to his 
heart’s content, having ascertained the color of sev- 
eral birds which sang over his head, having treas- 
ured up the peculiar quality of their different notes, 
and having ascertained beyond all doubt that the 
English forest was quite the quaintest and most 
lovely place in the world — came back and climbed 
into the tree by Kitty’s side. 

“ I’d like him to see it awfully,” he said. 

“ Who, Phil?” 

“ I can’t tell you — that’s my secret. Kitty, you’ll 
never find that I shall get accustomed to the forest 
— I mean so accustomed that I shan’t want to come 
here. Oh, never, never ! A place like this must 
always have something new to show you. Kitty, 
can you imitate all the birds’ notes yet ?” 

“ I can’t imitate one of them/’ said Kitty, with 
an impatient frown coming between her eyebrows. 


54 


THE LAI) Y OF THE FOREST. 


“ But I know what I want to be doing, and I only 
wish you had the same want.” 

“ Perhaps I have. What is it ?” 

u Oh, no, you haven’t. You’re just like the good}'- 
goody, awfully learned boys of the story-book. I 
do wish you wouldn’t go into raptures about stupid 
trees and birds and things !” 

Phil’s little pale face flushed. 

u Rupert — I mean — I mean my dearest friend — a 
hoy you know nothing about, Kitty — never spoke 
about its being goody-goody to love things of this 
sort, and he is manly if you like. I can’t help lov- 
ing them. But what is your want, Kitty ?” 

“ Oh, to have my mouth crammed full of jam 
rolly-poly ! I am so hungry !” 

“ So am I too. Let’s run back to the house.” 

When Philip and Kitty had gone off together for 
their first exploring expedition, when the two little 
strangers to one another had clasped hands and 
gone out through the open hall-door and down the 
shady lawns together, Rachel had followed them for 
a few paces. 

She stood still shading her eyes with one hand as 
she gazed after their retreating figures ; then whis- 
tling to an English terrier of the name of Jupiter, 
she ran round to the stables and encountered one of 
the grooms. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


55 


“Robert, put the side-saddle on Surefoot and 
come with me into the forest. It is a lovely even- 
ing, and I am going for a long ride.” 

Robert, a very young and rather sheepish groom, 
looked appealingly at the bright and pretty speaker. 

u My mother is ill, Miss Rachel, and Peter do say 
as I may go home and see her. Couldn’t you ride 
another evening, missy ?” 

“ No, I’m going to ride to-night. I wish to and 
I’m going ; but you need not come with me ; it is 
quite unnecessary. I should like nothing so well as 
having a long ride on Surefoot all alone.” 

“ But the ladies do say, Miss Rachel, as you are 
not to ride in the forest by yourself. Oh, if you 
will go, missy, why, I must iust put off seeing my 
poor mother until to-morrow.” 

Rachel stamped her foot impatiently. 

“ Nonsense, Robert !” she said. “ I am going to 
ride alone. I will explain matters to my aunts, so 
you need not be at all afraid. Put the side-saddle 
on Surefoot at once !” 

Robert’s conscience was easily appeased. He ran 
off and quickly returned with the rough little forest 
pony, and Rachel, mounting, cantered off. 

She was an excellent rider and had not a scrap of 
fear in her nature. She entered the forest by the 
long straight avenue ; and Surefoot, delighted to feel 


56 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


his feet on the smooth, velvety sward, trotted along 
gayly. 

“ Now I am free !” said the girl. “ How delight- 
ful it is to ride all by myself. I will go a long, long 
way this beautiful evening.” 

It was a perfect summer’s evening, and Rachel 
was riding through scenery of exquisite beauty. 
Birds sang blithely to her as she flew lightly over 
the ground ; squirrels looked down at her from 
among the branches of the forest oaks ; many wild 
flowers smiled up at her, and all nature seemed to 
sympathize with her gay youth and beauty. 

She was a romantic, impulsive child, and lived 
more or less in a world of her own imaginings. 

The forest was the happiest home in the world to 
Rachel ; Avonsyde was well enough, but no place 
was like the forest itself. She had a strong impres- 
sion that it was still peopled by fairies. She de- 
voured all the legends that Mrs. Newbolt, her aunt’s 
maid, and John Eyre, one of the agisters of the 
forest, could impart to her. Both these good people 
had a lurking belief in ghosts and fairies. Eyre 
swore that he had many and many a time seen the 
treacherous little Jack-o’-lanterns. He told horrible 
stories of strangers who were lured into bogs by 
these deceitful little sprites. But Mrs. Newbolt 
had a far more wonderful and exciting tale to tell 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


57 


than this ; for she spoke of a lady who, all in green, 
flitted through the forest — a lady with a form of 
almost spiritual etherealness, and with such a love- 
ly face that those who were fortunate enough to 
see her ever after retained on their own counte- 
nances a faint reflection of her rare beauty. Rachel 
had heard of this forest lady almost from the first 
moment of her residence at Avonsyde. She built 
many brilliant castles in the air about her, and she 
and Kitty most earnestly desired to see her. Of 
course they had never yet done so, but their belief 
in her was not a whit diminished, and they never 
went into the forest without having a dim kind of 
hope that they might behold the lady. 

Newbolt said that she appeared to very few, but 
she admitted that on one or two occasions of great 
and special moment she had revealed herself to some 
fair dames of the house of Lovel. She never ap- 
peared to two people together, and in consequence 
Rachel always longed to go into the forest alone. 
She felt excited to-night, and she said to herself 
more than once, “ I wonder if I shall see her. She 
comes on great occasions ; surely this must be a 
great occasion if the long-looked-for heir has come 
to Avonsyde. I do wonder if that little boy is the 
heir I” 

Rachel rode on, quite forgetful of time ; the rapid 


58 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


motion and the lovely evening raised her always 
versatile spirits. Her cheeks glowed ; her dark eyes 
shone ; she tossed back her rebellious curly locks 
and laughed aloud once or twice out of pure hap- 
piness. 

She intended to go a long way, to penetrate 
further into the shades of the wonderful forest than 
she had ever done yet ; but even she was uncon- 
scious how very far she was riding. 

It is easy to lose one’s way in the Hew Forest, 
and Rachel, accustomed as she was to all that part 
which immediately surrounded Avonsyde, presently 
found herself in a new country. She had left 
Rufus’ Stone far behind and was now riding down 
a gentle descent, when something induced the 
adventurous little lady to consult her watch. The 
hour pointed to six o’clock. It would be light for 
a long time yet, for it was quite the middle of sum- 
mer, and Rachel reflected that as tea-time was past, 
and as she would certainly be well scolded when 
she returned, she might as well stay out a little 
longer. 

“ 4 In for a penny, in for a pound !’ ” she said. 
“ The aunties will be so angry with me, but I don’t 
care ; I mean to enjoy myself to-night. Oh, what 
a tempting green bank, and what a carpet of blue- 
bells just there to the right! I must get some. 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


59 


Surefoot shall have a rest and a nibble at some of 
the grass, and I’ll pick the flowers and sit on the 
bank for a little time.” 

Surefoot was very well pleased with this arrange- 
ment. He instantly, with unerring instinct, selected 
the juiciest and most succulent herbage which the 
place afforded, and was happy after his fashion. 
Rachel picked bluebells until she had her hands 
full; then seating herself, she began to arrange 
them. She had found a small clearing in the forest, 
and her seat was on the twisted and gnarled roots 
of a giant oak tree. Her feet were resting on a 
thick carpet of moss ; immediately before her lay 
broken and undulating ground, clothed with the 
greenest grass, with the most perfect fronds of 
moss, and bestrewn with tiny silvery stems and bits 
of branches from the neighboring trees. A little 
further off was a great foreground of bracken, 
which completely clothed a very gentle ascent, and 
then the whole horizon was bounded by a semicircle 
of magnificent birch, oak, and beech. Some cows 
were feeding in the distance — they wore bells, which 
tinkled merrily ; the doves cooed and the birds sang; 
the softest of zephyrs played among the trees ; 
the evening sun flickered slant-wise through the 
branches and lay in brightness on the greensward ; 
and Rachel, who was intensely sensitive to nature, 
clasped her hands in ecstasy. 


60 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


“ Oh, it is good of God to make such a beautiful 
world !” she said, speaking aloud in her enthusiasm ; 
but just then something riveted Rachel’s attention. 
She sprang to her feet, forgot her bluebells, which 
fell in a shower around her, and in this fresh 
interest became utterly oblivious to the loveliness 
of the scene. A lady in a plain dark dress was 
walking slowly, very slowly, between the trees. 
She was coming toward Rachel, but evidently had 
not seen her, for her eyes were fixed on the pages 
of an open book, and as she read her lips moved, as 
though she were learning something to repeat 
aloud. This part of the forest was so remote 
and solitary, for it was miles away from any 
gentleman’s seat, that Rachel for a moment was 
startled. 

“ Who can she be ?” was her first exclamation ; 
her second was a delighted — 

“ Oh, perhaps she is the lady of the forest !” 

Then she exclaimed with vexation : 

“No, no, she cannot be. The lady always wears 
green and is almost transparent, and her face is so 
lovely. This lady is in dark clothes and she is 
reading and murmuring words to herself. She 
looks exactly as if she were learning a stupid lesson 
to say aloud. Oh, I am disappointed ! I had such 
a hope she might be the lady of the forest. I 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST \ 


61 


wonder where she can live ; there’s no house near 
this. Oh, dear! oh, dear! she is corning this way; 
she will pass me. Shall I speak to her ? I almost 
think I will. She seems to have a nice face, al- 
though she is not very young and she is not very 
beautiful.” 

The lady walked slowly on, her eyes still bent on 
her book, and so it happened that she never saw the 
radiant figure of pretty little Eachel until she was 
opposite to her. Her quiet, darkly fringed gray 
eyes were lifted then and surveyed the child first 
with astonishment ; then with curiosity ; then with 
very palpable agitation, wonder, and distress. 

Eachel came a step nearer and was about to 
open her lips, when the lady abruptly closed her 
book, as abruptly turned on her heel, and walked 
rapidly, very rapidly, in the opposite direction away 
from the child. 

“ Oh, stop !” cried Eachel. “ I want to speak to 
you. Who are you? It’s very interesting meeting 
you here in the very midst of the forest ! Please 
don’t walk away so fast! Do tell me who you 
are ! There, you are almost running, and I can’t 
keep up with you ! What a rude forest lady you 
are! Well, I never knew any one so rude be- 
fore !” 

The lady had indeed quickened her steps, and 


62 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


before Eachel could reach her she had disappeared 
through a small green-covered porch into a tiny 
house, so clothed with innumerable creepers that at 
a distance it could scarcely be distinguished from 
the forest itself. Rachel stood panting and indig- 
nant outside the door. She had forgotten Surefoot ; 
she had forgotten everything in the world but this 
rude lady who would not speak to her. 

Rachel was a very passionate child, and in her 
first indignation she felt inclined to pull the bell 
and insist upon seeing and conversing with the 
strange, silent lady. Before she could carry this 
idea into execution the door was opened and a 
neatly dressed elderly servant came out. 

“Well, little miss, and what is your pleasure?’' 
she said. 

“ I want to see the lady,” said Rachel ; u she is a 
very rude lady. I asked her some civil questions 
and she would not answer.” 

The old servant laid her hand on Rachel’s arm 
and drew her a few steps away from the bower- 
like house. 

“ What is your name, little miss ?” she said. 

“ My name ? Rachel Lovel, of course. Don’t you 
know? Everybody knows me in the forest. I’m 
Rachel Lovel of Avonsyde, and my pony’s name is 
Surefoot, and I have a sister called Kitty.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


63 


“ Well, missy,” continued the old woman, “ I have 
no reason at all to misdoubt your tale, but the 
forest is a big place, and even the grandest little 
ladies are not known when they stray too far from 
home. I have no doubt, missy, that you are Miss 
Lovel, and I have no doubt also that you have a 
kind heart, although you have a hasty tongue. 
Now, you know, it was very rude of you to run 
after my lady when she didn’t want to speak to you. 
My lady was much upset by your following her, and 
you have done great mischief by just being such a 
curious little body.” 

“ Mischief, have I said Eachel ; then she laughed. 
“But that is quite impossible,” she added, “fori 
never even touched the rude lady.” 

“You may do mischief, Miss Lovel, by many 
means, and curiosity is one of the most spiteful of 
the vices. It’s my opinion that more mischief can 
be laid to curiosity’s door than to any other door. 
From Eve down it was curiosity did the sin. Now, 
missy, my lady is lonely and unhappy, and she don’t 
want no one to know — no one in all the wide world 
— that she lives in this little wild forest house ; and 
if you tell, if you ever tell that you have seen her, 
or that you know where she lives, why, you will 
break the heart of the sweetest and gentlest lady 
that ever lived.” 


64 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ I don’t want to break any one’s heart,” said 
Rachel, turning pale. “What very queer things 
you say. I don’t want to break any one’s heart. I 
think I’ll go home now.” 

“Not until you have promised me first, Miss 
Lovel — not until you have promised me true and 
faithful.” 

“ Oh, I’ll only tell Kitty and my aunties. I never 
care to talk to strangers about things. There’s a 
new little boy come to Avonsyde — a new little boy 
and his mother. Of course I won’t say anything to 
either of them, but I never keep secrets from Kitty 
— never !” 

“Very well, miss; then my lady will have to go 
away. She is very tired and not strong, and she 
has just settled down in this little house, where she 
wants to rest and to be near — to be in the forest; 
and if you tell those aunts of yours and your little 
sister — if you tell anybody in all the wide world — 
she will have to go away again. We must pack up 
to night and we will be off in the morning. We’ll 
have to wander once more, and she’ll be sad and ill 
and lonely ; but of course 3 T ou won’t care.” 

“ What a cruel old woman you are !” said Rachel. 
“ Of course I don’t want anybody to be sad and 
lonely. I don’t want to injure the forest lady, al- 
though I cannot make out why she should have to 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


65 


live so secret here. Is she a wicked lady and has 
she committed a crime ?” 

“ Wicked ?” said the old woman, her eyes flash- 
ing. “Ah, missy, that such words should drop 
from your lips, and about her ! Are the angels in 
heaven wicked? Oh, my dear, good, brave lady! 
No, missy. She has to keep her secret, but it is be- 
cause of a cruel sin and injustice done to her, not 
because of any wrong done by her. Well, good- 
night, miss. I’ll say no more. We must be off, we 
two, in the morning.” 

“ No, don’t go !” called out Rachel. “ Of course 
I won’t tell. If she’s such a dear, good lady, I’ll 
respect her and love her and keep her secret ; only 
I should like to see her and to know her name.” 

“ All in good time, my dear little missy. Thank 
God, you will be faithful to this good and wronged 
lady.” 

“Yes, I’ll be very faithful,” said Rachel. “Not 
even to Kitty will I breathe one word. And now I 
must really go home.” 

“ God bless you, dear little miss — eh, but you’re 
a bonny child. And is the one you call Kitty as 
fair to look at ?” 

“As fair to look at?” laughed Rachel. “Why, 
I’m as brown as a nut and Kitty is dazzling. Kitty 


66 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


is pink and white, and if you only saw her hair ! 
It’s like threads of gold.” 

“ And the little gentleman, dear ? — you spoke of 
a little gentleman as well. Is he your brother, 
love ?” 

“ My brother ?” laughed Rachel. “ I have no one 
but Kitty. I have a mother living somewhere — 
she’s lost, my mother is, and I’m going all round the 
world to look for her when I’m old enough ; but I 
have no brother — I wish I had. Philip Lovel is a 
little new, strange boy who is going to be heir of 
Avonsyde. He came to-day with his mother. I 
don’t much like his mother. Now good-night, old 
woman. I’ll keep the good lady’s secret most faith- 
fully.” 

Rachel blew a kiss to the anxious-looking old 
servant, then ran gayly back to where she had left 
Surefoot. In the excitement of the last half-hour 
she had quite forgotten her withered bluebells. 
Mounting her pony, she galloped as fast as she could 
in the direction of Avonsyde. It was very late 
when she got back, but, strange to say, the old aunts 
were so much interested in Mrs. Lovel and in Mrs. 
Lovel’s boy that they forgot to scold her or to re- 
mark her absence. She longed intensely to tell 
Kitty all about the thrilling and romantic adventure 
she had just gone through, but she was a loyal 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


67 


child, and having once passed her word, nothing 
would induce her to break it. Kitty, too, was taken 
up with Philip Lovel, and Rachel, finding she was 
not wanted, ran up to her bedroom and lost herself 
in the charms of a fairy tale. 


68 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER Yl. 

THE TOWER BEDROOM. 

Avonsyde was a very old property. The fair 
lands had been bestowed by William Rufus on a 
certain Rupert Lovel who was fortunate enough to 
earn the gratitude of this most tyrannical and capri- 
cious of monarchs. Rupert Lovel had laid the first 
stone of the present house and had lived there until 
his death. He was succeeded by many wild and 
lawless descendants. As time went on they added 
to the old house, and gained, whether wrongly or 
rightly no one could say, more of the forest lands as 
their own. Avonsyde was a large property in the 
olden days, and the old squires ruled those under 
them by what was considered at that period the 
only safe and wholesome rule — that of terror. They 
were a proud, self-confident, headstrong race, very 
sure of one thing — that whatever happened Avon- 
syde would never cease to be theirs. An old proph- 
ecy was handed down from father to son to this 
effect. It had been put into a couplet by a rhymer 
as great in his way as Thomas of border celebrity : 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


69 


“ Tyde what may betyde, 

Lovel shall dwell at Avonsyde.” 

These words were taken as the motto of the 
house, and could be deciphered in very quaint let- 
tering just over the arch which supported a certain 
portion of the tower. The tower was almost if not 
quite seven hundred years old, and was another 
source of great pride and interest to the family. 

Miss Griselda and Miss Katharine could not have 
done little Philip Lovel a greater honor than when 
they arranged the tower bedroom for his reception. 
In their opinion, and in the opinion of every retainer 
of the family, they indeed showed respect to the 
child and the child’s claim when they got this 
gloomy apartment into order for him and his 
mother ; but when Mrs. Lovel, a timid and nervous 
woman, saw the room, she scarcely appreciated the 
honor conferred upon her and hers. 

Avonsyde was a house which represented many 
periods; each addition was a little more comfort- 
able than its predecessor. For instance, the new 
wing, with the beautiful drawing-rooms and spacious 
library, was all that was luxurious ; the cozy bed- 
rooms where Rachel and Kitty slept, with their 
thick walls and mullioned windows and deep old- 
fashioned cupboards, were both cheerful and con- 


70 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


venient ; but in the days when the tower was built 
ladies did without many things which are now con- 
sidered essential, and Mrs. Lovel had to confess to 
herself that she did not like her room. In the first 
place, the tower rooms were completely isolated 
from the rest of the house ; they were entered by a 
door at one side of the broad hall ; this door was of 
oak of immense thickness, and when it was shut no 
sound from the tower could possibly penetrate to 
the rest of the house. At the other side of the oak 
door was a winding stone staircase, very much worn 
and hollowed out by the steps of many generations. 
The stairs wound up and up in the fashion of a 
corkscrew ; they had no rail and were very steep, 
and the person who ascended, if at all timid, was 
very glad to lay hold of a slack rope which was 
loosely run through iron rings at intervals in the 
wall. 

After a great many of these steps had been 
climbed a very narrow stone landing was discovered ; 
three or four steps had then to be gone down, and 
Mrs. Lovel found herself in an octagon-shaped room 
with a very low ceiling and very narrow windows. 
The furniture was not only old-fashioned, but shabby; 
the room was small ; the bed was that monstrosity, 
a four-poster ; the curtains of velvet were black and 
rusty with age and wear. In short, the one and 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


71 


only cheerful object which poor Mrs. Lovel found in 
the apartment was the little white bed in one corner 
which had been prepared for Philip’s reception. 

“ Dear, dear, what remarkably steep stairs ; and 
what a small — I mean not a very large room ! Are 
all the bedrooms of Avonsyde as small as this?” she 
continued, interrogating Newbolt, who, starched and 
prim, but with a comely fresh face, stood beside 
her. 

“ This is the tower bedroom, mem,” answered the 
servant in a thin voice. “ The heir has always slept 
in this room, and the ladies has the two over. That 
has always been the fashion at Avonsyde — the heir 
has this room and the reigning ladies sleep overhead. 
This room is seven hundred years old, mem.” 

Mrs. Lovel shivered. 

“ Very antiquated and interesting,” she began, 
“ but isn’t it just a little cold and just a little 
gloomy ? I thought the other part of the house so 
much more cheerful.” 

Newbolt raised her eyebrows and gazed at Mrs. 
Lovel as if she were talking the rankest heresy. 

“ For them as don’t value the antique there’s 
rooms spacious and cheerful and abundantly fur- 
nished with modern vanities in the new part of the 
house,” she replied. “ Miss Rachel and Miss Kitty, 
for instance ; their bedroom isnt’t built more than 


72 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


three hundred years — a big room enough and with 
a lot of sunlight, but terrible modern, and not to be 
made no ’count of at Avonsyde ; and then there are 
two new bedrooms over the drawing-rooms, where 
we put strangers. Yery large they are and quite 
flooded with sunlight ; but of course for antiquity 
there are no rooms to be compared with this one 
and the two where the ladies sleep. Iam sorry 
the room don’t take your fancy, mem. I suppose, 
not being of the blood of the family, you can’t ap- 
preciate it. Shall I speak to the ladies on the sub- 
ject ?” 

“ Oh ! by no means, my good creature,” replied 
poor Mrs. Lovel in alarm. “ The room of course is 
most interesting and wonderfully antiquated. I’ve 
never seen such a room. And do your ladies really 
sleep higher up than this ? They must have wonder- 
fully strong hearts to be able to mount any more of 
those steep — I mean curious stairs.” 

Newbolt did not deign to make any comment 
with regard to the sound condition of Miss Griselda’s 
and Miss Katharine’s physical hearts. She favored 
the new-comer with a not-too-appreciative glance, 
and having arranged matters as comfortably as she 
could for her in the dismal chamber, left her to the 
peace and the solitude of a most solitary room. 

The poor lady quite trembled when she found 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 73 

herself alone ; the knowledge that the room was 
so old filled her with a kind of mysterious awe. 
After her experiences in the New World, she even 
considered the drawing-rooms at Avonsyde by no 
means to be despised on the score of youth. Those 
juvenile bedrooms of two hundred or three hundred 
years’ standing where Eachel and Kitty reposed 
were, in Mrs. Lovel’s opinion, hoary and weighted 
with age ; but as to this tower-room, surely such 
an apartment should only be visited at noon on a 
sunny day and in the company of a large party ! 

“ I’m glad the old ladies do sleep overhead,” she 
said to herself. “What truly awful attics theirs 
must be ! I never saw such a terribly depressing 
room as this. I’m certain it is haunted ; I’m con- 
vinced there must be a ghost here. If Philip were 
not sleeping here I should certainly die. Oh, dear ! 
what a risk I am running for the sake of Philip. 
Much of this life would kill me ! I find, too, that I 
am not very good at keeping in my feelings, and 
I’ll have to act — act all the time I am here, and 
pretend I’m just in raptures with everything, when 
I am not. That dreadful Newbolt saw through me 
about this room. Oh, dear ! I am a bad actor. Well, 
at any rate I am a good mother to Philip ; it’s a 
splendid chance for Philip. But if he speaks about 
that pain in his side we are lost ! Poor Phil ! these 
steep stairs are extremely bad for him.” 


74 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


There was plenty of daylight at present, and Mrs. 
Lovel could move about her ancient chamber with- 
out any undue fear of being overtaken by the terrors 
of the night. She took off her traveling bonnet and 
mantle, arranged her hair afresh before a mirror 
which caused her to squint and distorted every 
feature, and finally, being quite certain that she 
could never lie down and rest alone on that bed, 
was about to descend the stone stairs and to return 
to the more cheerful part of the house, when gay, 
quick footsteps, accompanied by childish laughter, 
were heard ascending, and Philip, accompanied by 
Kitty, bounded without any ceremony into the 
apartment. 

“ Oh, mother, things are so delightful here,” be- 
gan the little boy, “ and Kitty fishes nearly as well 
as Rupert. And Kitty has got a pony and I’m to 
have one ; Aunt Grizel says so — one of the forest 
ponies, mother. Do you know that the forest is full 
of ponies? and they are so rough and jolly. And there 
are squirrels in the forest — hundreds of squirrels — 
and all kinds of birds, and beetles and spiders, and 
ants and lizards ! Mother, the forest is such a love- 
ly place ! Is this our bedroom, mother ? What a 
jolly room ! I say, wouldn’t Rupert like it just ?” 

“ If you’re quick, Phil,” began Kitty — “ if you’re 
very quick washing your hands and brushing your 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


75 


hair, we can go back through the armory — that’s 
the next oldest part to the tower. I steal into the 
armory sometimes in the dusk, for I do so hope 
some of the chain-armor will rattle. Do you be- 
lieve in ghosts, Phil ? I do and so does Eachel.” 

u No, Pm not such a silly,” replied Phil. “ Mother, 
dear, how white you are ! Don’t you like our jolly, 
jolly bedroom? Oh! I do, and wouldn’t Eupert 
love to be here ?” 

Mrs. Lovel’s face had grown whiter and whiter. 

“ Phil,” she said, “ I must speak to you alone. 
Kitty, your little cousin will meet you downstairs 
presently. Oh, Phil, my dear,” continued the poor 
lady when Kitty had succeeded in banging herself 
noisily and unwillingly out of the room — “Phil, 
why, why will you spoil every thing !” 

“ Spoil everything, mother !” 

“Yes; you have spoken of Eupert — you have 
spoken twice of Eupert. Oh, we had better go 
away again at once !” 

“Dear Eupert!” said little Phil, with a sigh; 
“ darling, brave Eupert ! Mother, how I wish he 
was here !” 

“You will spoil everything,” repeated the poor 
lady, wringing her hands in despair. “ You know 
what Eupert is — so strong and manly and beautiful 
as a picture ; and }^ou know what the will says — 


76 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


that the strong one, whether he be eldest or 
youngest, shall be heir. Oh, Phil, if those old ladies 
know about Rupert we are lost !” 

Phil had a most comical little face ; a plain face 
decidedly — pale, with freckles, and a slightly up- 
turned nose. To those who knew it well it had 
many charms. It was without doubt an expressive 
and speaking face ; in the course of a few minutes 
it could look sad to pathos, or so brimful of mirth 
that to glance at it was to feel gay. The sad look 
now filled the beautiful brown eyes ; the little mouth 
drooped ; the boy went up and laid his head on his 
mother’s shoulder. 

“Do you know,” he said, “I must say it, even 
though it hurts you. I want Rupert to have every- 
thing. I love Rupert very dearly, and I think it 
would be splendid for him to come here, and to 
own a lot of the wild ponies, and to fish in that 
funny little river which Kitty calls the Avon. 
Rupert would let me live with him perhaps, and 
maybe he’d give me a pony, and I could find squir- 
rels and spiders and ants in the forest — oh! and 
caterpillars ; I expect there are splendid specimens 
of caterpillars here. Mother, when my heart is 
full of Rupert how can I help speaking about him ?” 

Mrs. Lovel pressed her hand to her brow in a 
bewildered manner. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


77 


“We must go away then, Philip,” she said. “As 
you love Rupert so well, better even than your 
mother, we must go away. It was a pity you did 
not tell me something of this before now, for I 
have broken into my last — yes, my very last £20 to 
come here. We have not enough money to take us 
back to Australia and to Rupert ; still, we must go 
away, for the old ladies will look upon us as impos- 
tors, and I could not bear that for anything in the 
world.” 

“ It is not only Rupert,” continued Phil ; “ it’s 
Gabrielle and Peggy; and — and — mother, I can’t 
help being fond of them ; but, mother, I love you 
best !” 

“ Do you really, Phil ? Better than that boy ? I 
never could see anything in him. Do you love me 
better than Rupert, Phil ?” 

“ Yes, of course; you are my mother, and when 
father died he said I was always to love you and to 
do what you wanted. If you want Avonsyde, I 
suppose you must have it some day when the old 
ladies die. I’ll do my best not to talk about Rupert, 
and I’ll try to seem very strong, and I’ll never, 
never tell about the pain in my side. Give me a 
kiss, mother. You shan’t starve nor be unhappy. 
Oh ! what an age we have been chattering here, 
and Kitty is waiting for me, and I do so want to 


78 


TEE LADT OF THE FOREST. 


see the armory! I wonder if there are ghosts 
there ? It sounds silly to believe in them ; but 
Kitty does, and she’s a dear little girl, nearly as nice 
as Gabrielle. Good-by, mother ; I’m off. I’ll try to 
remember.” 


THE LADY OF THE F0RES1. 


79 


CHAPTER VII. 

“ BETYDE WHAT MAY.” 

In a handsomely furnished dining-room in a 
spacious and modern-looking house about three 
miles outside the city of Melbourne, three children 
— two girls and a boy — were standing impatiently 
by a wide-open window. 

“ Gabrielle,” said the boy, “ have you any idea 
when the mails from England are due ?” 

The boy was the taller of the three, splendidly 
made, with square shoulders, great breadth of 
chest, and head so set on the same shoulders that 
it gave to its young owner an almost regal appear- 
ance. The bright and bold dark eyes were full of 
fire ; the expressive lines round the finely cut lips 
were both kindly and noble. 

“ Gabrielle, is that Carlo riding past on Jo-jo ? If 
it is, perhaps he is bringing our letter-bag. Father 
has gone to Melbourne to-day ; but he said if there 
were English letters he would send them out by 
Carlo.” 


80 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


“You are so impatient about England and Eng- 
lish things, Rupert,” said little Peggy, raising a face 
framed in by soft flaxen hair to her big brother. 
“ Oh, yes, I’ll run to meet Carlo, for of course you 
want me to, and I’ll come back again if there’s any 
news ; and if there is not, why, I’ll stay and play 
with my ravens, Elijah and James Grasper. Elijah 
is beginning to speak so well and James Grasper is 
improving. If Carlo has no letters you need not 
expect me back, either of you.” 

The little maid stepped quickly out of the open 
window, and ran fleet as the wind across a beauti- 
fully kept lawn and in the direction where a horse’s 
quick steps were heard approaching. 

Gabrielle was nearly as tall as her brother, with 
a stately bearing and a grave face. 

“ If father does decide on taking you to Europe, 
Rupert, I wish to say now that I am quite willing 
to stay here with Peggy. I don’t want to go to 
school at Melbourne. I would rather stay on here 
and housekeep, and keep things nice the way our 
mother would have liked. If Peggy and I go away, 
Belmont will have to be shut up and a great many 
of the servants dismissed, and that would be silly. 
I am thirteen now, and I think I am wise for my 
age. You will speak to father, won’t you, Rupert, 
and ask him to allow me to be mistress here while 


you are away 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST, 


81 


“If we are away,” corrected Eupert. “Ah ! here 
comes Peggy, and the letter-bag, and doubtless a 
letter. What a good child you are, Peggy White!” 

Peggy dashed the letter-bag with some force 
through the open window. Eupert caught it lightly 
in one hand, and detaching a small key from his 
watch-chain opened it. It only contained one letter, 
and this was directed to himself : 

“Mr. Eupert Loyel, 

“ Belmont, 

“ Near Melbourne, 

“ Victoria, 

“ Australia.” 

•“ A letter from England !” said Eupert. “ And 
oh ! Gabrielle, what do you think ? It is — yes, it is 
from our little Cousin Philip !” 

“ Let me see,” said Gabrielle, peeping over her 
brother's shoulder. “ Poor, dear little Phil ! Eead 
aloud what he says, Eupert. I have often thought 
of him lately.” 

Eupert smiled, sat down on the broad window- 
ledge, and his sister, kneeling behind him, laid her 
hand affectionately on his shoulder. A little letter, 
written with considerable pains and difficulty, with 
rather shaky and blotted little fingers, and quite 
uncorrected, just, in short, as nature had prompted 


82 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


it to a small, eager, and affectionate mind, was then 
read aloud : 

“Dear Cousin Eupert: You must please for- 
give the spelling and the bad writing, and the blots 
(oh ! I made a big one now, but I have sopped it 
up). This letter is quite secret, so it won’t be cor- 
rected, for mother doesn’t know that I am writing. 
Mother and I are in England, but she says I am not 
to tell you where we are. It isn’t that mother isn’t 
fond of you, but she has a reason, which is a great 
secret, for your not knowing where we are. The 
reason has something to do with me. It’s something 
that I’m to have that I don’t want and that I’d 
much rather you had. It’s a beautiful thing, with 
spiders, and rivers, and caterpillars, and wild ponies, 
and ghosts, and rattling armor, and a tower of 
winding stairs. Oh ! I mustn’t tell you any more, 
for perhaps you’d guess. You are never to have it, 
although I’d like you to. We are not very far from 
the sea, and we’re going there to-morrow, and it is 
there I’ll post this letter. How, I am quite de- 
termined that you and Gabrielle and Peggy shall 
know that I think of you always. Mother and me, 
we are in a beautiful, grand place now — very grand 
— and most enormous old ; and I have two little 
girls to play with, and I have got a pony, and a 
white pup, and I am taught by a tutor, and drilled 
by a drill-sergeant, and I fish and play cricket with 
Kitty, only I can’t play cricket much, because of my 
side ; but, Eupert, I want to say here, and I want 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


83 


you and Peggy and Gabrielle always and always to 
remember, that I’d rather be living with mother in 
our little cottage near Belmont, with only Betty as 
servant and with only Jim to clean the boots and 
do the garden, for then 1 should be near you ; and 
1 love you, Kupert, and Gabrielle, and Peggy, better 
than any one in the world except my mother. Please 
tell Peggy that I don’t think much of the English 
spiders, but some of the caterpillars are nice ; and 
please tell Gabrielle that the English flowers smell 
very sweet, but they are not so bright or so big as 
ours, and the birds sing, oh ! so beautiful, but they 
haven’t got such gay dresses. Good-by, Bupert. Do 
you shoot much ? And do you ever think of me? 
And are you good to my little dog Cato ? 

“Phil Lovel. 

“ P. S. — Please, I’d like to hear from you, and as 
mother says you are not on no account to know 
where we are, will you write me a letter to the post- 
office at the town where this is posted? You will 
see the name of the town on the envelope, and 
please direct your letter : 

‘Master Phil Lovel, 

‘ Post-office. 

‘ To be called for.’ 

“ Be sure you put ‘ to be called for ’ in big letters. 

“Good-by again. Love to everybody. Phil.” 

Gabrielle and Rupert read this very characteristic 
little epistle without comment. When they had 


84 : 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


finished it, Rupert slipped it back into its envelope 
and gave it to his sister. 

“ We must both write to the poor little chap,” he 
said. “The postmark on the envelope is Southamp- 
ton. I suppose Southampton, England, will find 
him.” Then he added after a pause : “ I wonder 

what queer thing Aunt Bella is thinking about 
now ?” 

“ She always was the silliest person in the world,” 
said Gabrielle in a tone of strong contempt. “ If 
she were my mother I shouldn’t love her. I wonder 
how Phil loves her. Poor little Phil ! He always 
was a dear little fellow — not a bit like Aunt Bella, 
thank goodness !” 

Rupert laughed. 

“ Why, Gabrielle,” he said, “ you can have no ob- 
servation ; Phil is the image of his mother. There 
is nothing at all belonging to his father about Phil 
except his eyes.” 

“ And his nature,” proceeded Gabrielle, “and his 
dear, brave little soul. I am sure if trial came to 
him Phil could be a hero. What matter that he has 
got Aunt Bella’s uninteresting features? He has 
nothing more of her in him. Oh, she always was a 
sill} 7 , mysterious person ! Just think of her not al- 
lowing Phil to tell us where he is !” 

“ My father says that there is method in Aunt 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


85 


Bella’s silliness,” continued Rupert. “Don’t you 
remember how suddenly she sold her little house at 
the back of our garden, Gabrielle, and how Betty 
found her burning an English newspaper ; and how 
queer and nervous and flurried she became all of a 
sudden ; and then how she asked father to give her 
that £200 he had of hers in the bank ; and how she 
hurried off without saying good-by to one of us ? 
We have not heard a word about her from that day 
until now, when Phil’s little letter has come.” 

“ She never even bid mother good-by,” continued 
Gabrielle in a pained voice. “ Mother always stood 
up for Aunt Bella. She never allowed us to laugh 
at her or to grumble at her funny, tiresome ways.” 

“ Did mother allow us to laugh at any one ?” con- 
tinued Rupert. “There was nothing at all remark- 
able in our mother being kind to poor Aunt Bella, 
for she was good to every one.” 

“But there was something strange in Aunt Bella 
not bidding our mother good-by,” pursued Gabrielle, 
“ for I think she was a little fond of mother, and 
mother was so weak and ill at the time. I saw tears 
in Aunt Bella’s eyes once after mother had been 
talking to her. Yes, her going away was certainly 
very queer ; but I have no time to talk any more 
about it now. I must go to my work. Rupert, 
shall we ride this afternoon ? This is just the most 


86 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


perfect weather for riding before the great summer 
heat commences.” 

“ Yes, we’ll be in summer before we know where 
we are,” said Rupert ; “ it is the 4th of November 
to-day. I will ride with you at three o’clock, 
Gabrielle — that is, if father is not back.” 

The brother and sister left the room to pursue 
their different vocations, and a short time afterward 
an old servant, with a closely frilled cap tied with 
a ribbon under her chin, came into the room. She 
was the identical Betty who had been Mrs. Lovel’s 
maid-of-all-work, and who had now transferred her 
services to the young people at Belmont. Betty 
was old, wrinkled, and of Irish birth, and sincerely 
attached to all the Lovels. She came into the room 
under the pretext of looking for some needlework 
which Gabrielle had mislaid, but her real object 
was to peer into the now open post-bag, and then to 
look suspiciously round the room. 

“ I smell it in the air,” she said, sniffing as she 
spoke. “ As sure as I’m Betty O’Flanigan there’s 
news of Master Phil in the air ! Was there a letter ? 
Oh, glory ! to think as there might be a letter from 
my own little master, and me not to know. Miss 
Gabrielle’s mighty close, and no mistake. Well, I’ll 
go and ask her bold outright if she has had news of 
the darlint.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


87 


Betty could not find Gabrielle’ s lost embroidery, 
and perceiving that the post-bag was absolutely 
empty, she pottered out of the room again and up- 
stairs to where her young lady was making up 
some accounts in a pretty little boudoir which had 
belonged to her mother. 

“Och, and never a bit of it can I see, Miss 
Gabrielle,” said the old woman as she advanced 
into the room ; and then she began sniffing the air 
again. 

“What are you making that funny noise for, 
Betty ?” said Miss Lovel, raising her eyes from a 
long column of figures. 

“ I smell it in the air,” said Betty, sniffing in an 
oracular manner. “ I dreamed of him three times 
last night, and that means tidings ; and now I smell 
it in the air.” 

“ Oh ! you dreamed of little Phil,” said Gabrielle 
in a kind tone. “ Yes, we have just had a letter. 
Sit down there and I’ll read it to you.” 

Betty squatted down instantly on the nearest 
hassock, and with her hands under her apron and 
her mouth wide open prepared herself not to lose a 
word. 

Gabrielle read the letter from end to end, the old 
woman now and then interrupting her with such 
exclamations as “ Oh, glory ! May the saints pre- 
sarve him ! Well, listen to the likes of that !” 


88 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


At last Gabrielle’s voice ceased ; then Betty hob- 
bled to her feet, and suddenly seizing the childish 
letter, not a word of which she could read, pressed 
it to her lips. 

“ Ah ! Miss Gabrielle,” she said, “ that mother of 
his meant mischief. She meant mischief to you 
and yours, miss, and the sweet child has neither 
part nor lot in the matter. If I was you, Miss 
Gabrielle, I’d ferret out where Mrs. Lovel is hiding 
Master Phil. What business had she to get into 
such a way about a bit of an English newspaper, 
and to hurry off with the child all in a twinkling 
like, and to be that flustered and nervous ? And 
oh ! Miss Gabrielle, the fuss about her clothes ; and 
‘ did she look genteel in this V and ‘ did she look 
quite the lady in that V And then the way she 
went off, bidding good-by to no one but me. Oh ! 
she’s after no good ; mark my words for it.” 

“But she can do us no harm, Betty,” said 
Gabrielle. “'Neither my father nor Kupert is like- 
ly to be injured by a weak kind of woman like 
Aunt Bella. I am sorry for little Phil ; but I think 
you are silly to talk as you do of Aunt Bella. Now 
you may take the letter away with you and kiss it 
and love it as much as you like. Here comes 
father; he is back earlier than usual from Mel 
bourne, and I must speak to him.” 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


89 


Mr. Lovel, a tall, fine-looking man, with a strong 
likeness to both his son and daughter, now came 
hastily into the room. 

“ I have indeed come back in a hurry, Gabrielle,” 
he said. “ That advertisement has appeared in the 
papers again. I have had a long talk with our 
business friend, Mr. Davis, and the upshot of it is 
that Rupert and I sail for Europe on Saturday. 
This is Tuesday ; so you will have your hands pret- 
ty full in making preparations for such a sudden 
move, my dear daughter.” 

“ Is it the advertisement that appeared six months 
ago, father?” said Gabrielle in an excited voice. 
“ Mother pointed it out to you then and you would 
take no notice of it.” 

“These things are often put into newspapers 
$imply as a kind of hoax, child,” said the father, 
and it all seemed so unlikely. However, al- 
though I appeared to take no notice, I was 
not unmindful of Rupert’s interests. I went 
to consult with Davis, and Davis promised to 
make inquiries in England. He came to me this 
morning with the result of his investigations and 
with this advertisement in the Melbourne Times. 
Here it is ; it is three months old, unfortunately. 
It appeared three months after the first advertise- 
ment, but Davis did not trouble me with it until he 


90 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


had got news from England. The news came this 
morning. It is of a satisfactory character and to 
the effect that the last Valentine Lovel, of Avon- 
syde, in the New Forest, Hampshire, died without 
leaving any male issue, and the present owners of 
the property are two unmarried ladies, neither of 
whom is young. Now, Gabrielle, you are a wise 
lass for your thirteen years, and as I have not your 
mother to consult with, I am willing to rely a little 
bit on your judgment. You read this, my daugh- 
ter, and tell me what you make of it.” 

As Mr. Lovel spoke he unfolded a sheet of the 
Melbourne Times , and pointing to a small paragraph 
in one of the advertisement columns which was 
strongly underscored with a blue pencil, he handed 
it to Gabrielle. 

“Read it aloud,” he said. “They are strange 
words, but I should like to hear them again.” 

Gabrielle, in her clear and bright voice, read as 
follows : 

“Lovel.— If any of the lineal descendants of 
Rupert Lovel, of Avonsyde, New Forest, Hamp- 
shire, who left his home on the 20th August, 1684, 
are now alive and will communicate with Messrs. 
Baring & Baring, 128 Chancery Lane, London, they 
will hear of something to their advantage. Only 
heirs male in direct succession need apply.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


91 


Gabrielle paused. 

“ Read on,” said her father. “ The second part 
of the advertisement, or rather a second advertise- 
ment which immediately follows the first, is of more 
interest.” 

Gabrielle continued : 

“ I, Griselda Lovel, and I, Katharine Lovel, of 
Avonsyde, New Forest, of the county of Hampshire, 
England, do, according to our late father’s will, 
earnestly seek an heir of the issue of one Rupert 
Lovel, who left Avonsyde on the 20th August, 1684, 
in consequence of a quarrel between himself and 
his father, the then owner of Avonsyde. By reason 
of this quarrel Rupert Lovel was disinherited, and 
the property has continued until now in the younger 
branch. According to our late father’s will, we, 
Griselda and Katharine Lovel, wish to reestablish 
the elder branch of the family, and offer to make a 
direct descendant of the said Rupert Lovel our heir, 
provided the said descendant be under fifteen years 
of age and of sound physical health. We refuse to 
receive letters or to see any claimant personally, 
but request to have all communications made to us 
through our solicitors, Messrs. Baring & Baring, of 
128 Chancery Lane, London, E. C. 

“ ‘ Tyde what may betyde, 

Lovel shall dwell at Avonsyde. n 


Gabrielle’s cheeks flushed brightly as she read. 


92 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ Oh, father 1” she exclaimed, raising her eyes to 
the face of the tall man who stood near her, “ do 
you really believe a little bit in it at last? Don’t 
you remember how I used to pray of you to tell 
me traditions of the old English home when I was 
a little child, and how often you have repeated that 
old rhyme to me, and don’t you know how mother 
used to treasure the tankard with the family crest 
and ‘Tyde what may’ in those queer, quaint Eng- 
lish characters on it? Mother was quite excited 
when the first advertisement appeared, but you 
said we were not to talk or to think of it. Eupert 
is the rightful heir — is he not, father? Oh, how 
proud I shall be to think that the old place is to 
belong to him !” 

“ I believe he is the rightful heir, Gabrielle,” said 
her father in a grave voice. “ He is undoubtedly a 
lineal descendant of the Eupert Lovel who left 
Avonsyde in 1684, and he also fulfills the conditions 
of the old ladies’ advertisement, for he is under 
fifteen and splendidly strong ; but it is also a fact 
that I cannot find some very important letters which 
absolutely prove Eupert’s claim. I could swear 
that I left them in the old secretary in your mother’s 
room, but they have vanished. Davis, on the other 
hand, believes that I have given them to him, and 
will have a strict search instituted for them. The 


THE LAD T OF THE FOREST. 


93 


loss of the papers makes a flaw in my boy’s claim ; 
but I shall not delay to go to England on that 
account. Davis will mail them to me as soon as 
ever they are recovered; and in the mean time, 
Gabrielle, I will ask you to pack up the old tankard 
and give it to me to take to England. There is no 
doubt whatever that that tankard is the identical 
one which my forefather took with him when almost 
empty-handed he left Avonsyde.” 

“ I will fetch it at once,” said Gabrielle. “ Mother 
kept it in the cupboard at the back of her bed. 
She always kept the tankard and our baptismal 
mugs and the diamonds you gave her when first 
you were married in that cupboard. I will fetch 
the tankard and have it cleaned, and I will pack it 
for you myself.” 

Gabrielle ran out of the room, returning in a few 
moments with a slightly battered old drinking-cup, 
much tarnished and of antique pattern. 

“ Here it is !” she exclaimed, “ and Betty shall 
clean it. Is that you, Betty ? Will you take this 
cup and polish it for me at once yourself ? I have 
great news to give you when you come back.” 

Betty took the cup and turned it round and round 
with a dubious air. 

“ It isn’t worth much,” she said ; “ but 111 clean it 
anyhow.” 


94 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“Be careful of it, Betty,” called out Gabrielle. 
“Whatever you may think of it, you tiresome old 
woman, it is of great value to us, and particularly to 
your favorite, Bupert.” 

Muttering to herself, Betty hobbled downstairs, 
and Gabrielle and her father continued their con- 
versation. In about half an hour the old woman 
returned and presented the cup, burnished now to 
great brilliancy, to her young mistress. 

“ I said it wasn’t worth much,” she repeated. “ I 
misdoubt me if it’s silver at all.” 

Gabrielle turned it round in her hand ; then she 
uttered a dismayed exclamation. 

“ Father, do look ! The crest is gone ; the crest 
and the old motto, 1 Betyde what may,’ have abso- 
lutely vanished. It is the same cup ; yes, certainly 
it is the same, but where is the crest ? and where is 
the motto ?” 

Mr. Lovel took the old tankard into his hand and 
examined it narrowly. 

“ It is not the same,” he said then. “ The shape 
is almost identical, but this is not my forefather’s 
tankard. I believe Betty is right, and this is not 
even silver ; here is no crown mark. No letters, 
Gabrielle, and no tankard ! Well, never mind ; 
these are but trifles. Rupert and I sail all the 
same for England and the old property on Satur- 
day.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


95 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE SACRED CUPBOARD. 

Mr. Lovel told Gabrielle that the loss of the 
tankard and the letters were but trifles. His 
daughter, however, by no means believed him ; she 
noticed the anxious look in his eyes and the little 
frown which came between his brows. 

“ Father’s always like that when he’s put out,” 
she said. “Father’s a man who never yet lost his 
temper. He’s much too big and too great and too 
grand to stoop to anything small of that kind, but, 
all the same, I know he’s put out. He’s a wonder- 
ful man for sticking out for the rights of things, and 
if he thinks Rupert ought to inherit that old prop- 
erty in England he won’t leave a stone unturned to 
get it for him. He would not fret; he would not 
think twice about it if it was not Rupert’s right ; 
but as it is I know he is put out, and I know the 
loss of the tankard is not just a trifle. Who could 
put a false tankard in the place of the real one ? 
Who could have done it? I know what I’ll do. 
I’ll go up to mother’s room again and have a 
good look round.” 


96 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Mrs. Lovel was not a year dead, and Gabrielle 
never entered the room which had known her loved 
presence and from which she had been carried 
away to her long rest without a feeling of pain. 
She was in many respects a matter-of-fact girl — not 
nearly as sensitive as Rupert, who with all his 
strength had the tenderest heart ; nor as little 
Peggy, who kept away from mother’s room and 
never spoke of her without tears filling her eyes. 
To enter mother’s room seemed impossible to both 
Rupert and Peggy, but Gabrielle found a certain 
sad pleasure in going there ; and when she had shut 
the door now she looked around her with a little 
sigh. 

“ I’ll make it homelike, as if mother were here,” 
she said to herself. “ I’ll make it homelike, and 
then sit by the open window and try and believe 
that mother is really asleep on that sofa, where she 
has lain for so many, many hours.” 

Her eyes brightened as this idea came to her, 
and she hastened to put it into execution. She drew 
up the window-blinds and opened the pretty bay- 
window, and let the soft delicious air of spring fill 
the apartment ; then she took the white covers off 
the chairs and sofa, pulled the sofa forward into its 
accustomed position, and placed a couple of books 
on the little table which always stood by its side. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


97 


These few touches transformed the large room ; it 
lost its look of gloom and was once more bright and 
homelike. A wistaria in full bloom peeped in at the 
open window ; the distant sounds of farm life were 
audible, and Gabrielle heard Peggy’s little voice 
talking in endearing tones to the cross old ravens, 
Elijah and Grasper. She knelt by the open window 
and, pressing her cheeks on her hands, looked out. 

“ Oh, if only mother were on the sofa !” That 
was the cry which arose, almost to pain, in her lone- 
ly heart. “ Peggy and Kupert and I have no 
mother, and now father and Rupert are going to 
England and I shall have to do everything for 
Peggy. Peggy will lean on me ; she always does — 
dear little Peg ! but I shall have no one.” 

The thought of Rupert’s so speedily leaving her 
recalled the tankard to Gabrielle’s memory. She 
got up and unlocked the cupboard, which was situat- 
ed at the back of her mother’s bed. The cupboard 
was half-full of heterogeneous matter — some treas- 
ures, some rubbish ; numbers of old photographs ; 
numbers of childish and discarded books. Some of 
the shelves were devoted to broken toys, to headless 
dolls, to playthings worthless in themselves, but 
treasured for memory’s sake by the mother. Tears 
filled Gabrielle’s eyes, but she dashed them away 
and was about to institute a systematic search, 


98 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


when Rupert opened the door and came in. His 
ruddy, brightly colored, healthy face was pale ; he 
did not see Gabrielle, who was partly hidden by the 
large bedstead. He entered the room with soft, 
reverent footsteps, and walked across it as though 
afraid to make a sound. 

Gabrielle started when she saw him ; she knew 
that neither Rupert nor Peggy ever came to the 
room. What did this visit mean ? Why was that 
cloud on Rupert’s brow ? From where she stood 
she could see without being seen, and for a moment 
or two she hesitated to make a sound or to let her 
brother know she was near him. He walked 
straight across the room to the open window, 
looked out as Gabrielle had looked out, then turn- 
ing to the sofa, laid one muscular brown hand with 
a reverent gesture on the pillow which his mother’s 
head had pressed. The little home touches which 
Gabrielle had given to the room were unnoticed by 
Rupert, for he had never seen it in its shrouded 
and dismantled state. All his memories centered 
round that sofa with the flowering chintz cover; the 
little table ; the small chair, which was usually oc- 
cupied by a boy or girl as they looked into the face 
they loved and listened to the gentle words from 
the dearest of all lips. Rupert made no moan as 
Gabrielle had done, but he drew the little chair for- 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


99 


ward, and laying his head face downward on the 
pillow, gave vent to an inward supplication. The 
boy was strong physically and mentally, and the 
spiritual life which his mother had fostered had 
already become part of his being. He spoke it in no 
words, but he lived it in his upright young life. 
To do honor to his mother’s memor} 7 , to reverence 
and love his mother’s God, was his motto. 

Gabrielle felt uncomfortable standing behind the 
bedstead. She coughed, made a slight movement, 
and Rupert looked up, with wet eyelashes. 

“ Gabrielle !” he said, with a start of extreme 
surprise. 

“Yes, Rupert, I was in the room. I saw you 
come in. I was astonished, for I know you don’t 
come here. I was so sorry to be in the way, and 
just at first I made no sound.” 

“ You are not a bit in the way,” said Rupert, 
standing up and smiling at her. “I came now be- 
cause there are going to be immense changes, and — 
somehow I could not help myself. I — I — wanted 
mother to know.” 

“ Yes,” said Gabrielle, going and standing by his 
side. “ Ho you think she does know, Rupert ? 
Ho you think God tells her V 9 

“ I feel that she does,” said Rupert. “ But I can’t 
talk about mother, Gabrielle ; it is no use. What 


100 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


were you doing behind that bedstead ?” he added in 
a lighter tone. 

“ I was looking for the tankard.” 

“What, the old Avonsyde tankard? But of 
course it is there. It was always kept in what we 
used to call the sacred cupboard.” 

“Yes; but it is gone,” said Gabrielle. “It was 
there and it has vanished ; and what is more 
wonderful, Rupert, another tankard has been put in 
its place — a tankard something like it in shape, but 
not made of silver and without the old motto.” 

“ Nonsense !” said Rupert almost sharply. “We 
will both go and look in the cupboard, Gabrielle. 
The real tankard may be pushed far back out of 
sight.” 

“ No ; it is too large for that,” said Gabrielle. 
“ But you shall come and see with your own eyes.” 

She led the way, and the two began to explore 
the contents of the cupboard, the boy touching the 
sacred relics with almost more reverent lingers than 
the girl. The tankard, the real tankard, was cer- 
tainly nowhere to be found. 

“ Father is put out about it,” said Gabrielle. “ I 
know it by his eyes and by that firm way he com- 
presses his lips together. He won’t get into a pas- 
sion — you know he never does — but he is greatly 
put out. He says the tankard forms important 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


101 


evidence, and that its being lost is very disastrous 
to your prospects.” 

“ My prospects ?” said Rupert. “ Then father is 
not quite sure about my being the lawful heir ?” 

“ Oh, Rupert, of course he is sure ! But he must 
have evidence ; he must prove your descent. 
Rupert, dear, are you not delighted? Are you not 
excited about all this ?” 

“ Ro, Gabrielle. I shall never love Avonsyde as 
I love Belmont. It was here my mother lived and 
died.” 

Tears came into Gabrielle’s eyes. She was 
touched by Rupert’s rare allusion to his mother, but 
she also felt a sense of annoyance at what she 
termed his want of enthusiasm. 

“ If I were the heir ” she began. 

“Yes, Gabrielle — if you were the heir?” 

“ I should be — oh, I cannot explain it all ! But 
how my heart would beat ; how I should rejoice !” 

“ I am glad too,” said Rupert ; “ but I am not 
excited. I shall like to see Europe, however ; and I 
will promise to write you long letters and tell you 
everything.” 


102 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER IX. 

A TRY STING-PLACE. 

Rachel had a very restless fit on. She was a 
child full of impulses, with spirits wildly high one 
day and proportionately depressed the next ; but 
the restlessness of her present condition did not re- 
semble the capricious and ever-changing moods 
which usually visited her. The uneasy spirit which 
prevented her taking kindly to her lessons, which 
took the charm from her play-hours and the pleasure 
even from Kitty’s society, had lasted now for 
months ; it had its date from a certain lovely sum- 
mer’s evening. Had Aunt Griselda and Aunt 
Katharine known more about what their little niece 
did on that occasion, they might have attributed 
her altered mood to an over-long ride and to some 
physical weakness. 

But Rachel was wonderfully strong ; her cheeks 
bloomed ; her dark eyes sparkled ; and the old ladies 
were interested just now in some one whom they 
considered far more important than Rachel. So 
the little girl neglected her lessons without getting 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


103 


into any very serious scrapes, and more than once 
rode alone into the forest on Surefoot without be- 
ing reprimanded. Rachel would steal away from 
Kitty and from little Phil, and would imperiously 
order Robert to saddle her pony and to ride with 
her just a very little way into the forest ; but then 
the groom was not only allowed, but requested to 
turn off in another direction, and Rachel would 
gallop as fast as possible past Rufus’ Stone, and on 
as far as that lovely glade where she had sat and 
gathered bluebells in the summer. She always dis- 
mounted from Surefoot here, and standing with her 
back to an old oak tree, waited with intense ex- 
pectancy. She never went further than the oak 
tree; she never went down a narrow path which 
led to a certain cottage clothed completely in green ; 
but she waited, with her hands clasped and her eyes 
fixed eagerly on the distant vista of forest trees. 
Sometimes her eyes would sparkle, and she would 
clap her hands joyfully and run to meet a prim- 
looking old woman who came forward through the 
shades to meet her. Sometimes she returned home 
without seeing anybody, and on these occasions she 
was apt to be morose — snappish to Kitty, rude to 
Mrs. Lovel and Phil, and, in short, disagreeable 
to every one, except perhaps her gentle Aunt 
Katharine. 


104 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


The old ladies would vaguely wonder what ailed 
the child, and Miss Griselda would hope she was not 
going to be famous for the Lovel temper ; but as 
their minds were very full of other things they did 
not really investigate matters. 

One frosty day about the middle of November, 
when Phil and his mother had been quite four 
months at Avonsyde, Rachel started off earlier than 
usual for one of her long rides. The forest was full 
of a wonderful mystical sort of beauty at all times 
and seasons, and now, with the hoar-frost sparkling 
on the grass, with the sun shining brightly, and 
with many of the autumn tints still lingering on the 
trees, it seemed almost as delightful a place to 
Rachel as when clothed in its full summer glory. 
The little brown-coated winter birds chirped cozily 
among the branches of the trees, and hundreds of 
squirrels in a wealth of winter furs bounded from 
bough to bough. Rachel as usual dismissed her 
faithful attendant, Robert, and galloping to her ac- 
customed try sting-place, waited eagerly for what 
might befall. 

On this particular day she was not doomed to dis- 
appointment. The old servant was soon seen ap- 
proaching. Rachel ran to her, clasped her hands 
round her arm, and raising her lips to her face, 
kissed her affectionately. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


105 


“ Ah, you are a good Nancy to-day !” she ex- 
claimed. “ I was here on Saturday and here on 
Wednesday, and you never came. It was very un- 
kind of } T ou. I got so tired of standing by the oak 
tree and waiting. Well, Nancy, is the lady quite 
well to-day ?” 

“ Middling, dearie ; middling she ever is and will 
be until she claims her own again.” 

“Oh, you n^sterious old woman ! You are try- 
ing to make me desperately curious, but I don’t be- 
lieve there is anything in your talk. You worry 
me to keep a tremendous secret, and there’s nothing 
in it, after all. Oh, of course I’m keeping your 
secret; you needn’t pretend to be so frightened. 
And when am I to see the lady of the forest, 
Nancy ?” 

“Now, my dear, haven’t I told you until I’m 
tired? You’re to see her come your thirteenth 
birthday, love. The day you are thirteen you’ll see 
her, and not an hour sooner.” 

Eachel stamped her foot angrily. 

“ I shan’t have a birthday till the beginning of 
May !” she said. “ It’s a shame ; it’s a perfect, per- 
fect shame !” 

Old Nancy pushed back a rebellious curl from the 
child’s bright head. 

“ Don’t you fret, my pretty,” she said tenderly. 


106 


THE LAD Y OF THE FOREST. 


“ The lady wants to see you a deal — a sight more 
than you want to see her. The lady has passed 
through many troubles, and not the least is thp 
waiting to see your pretty face.” 

Rachel began eagerly to unbutton her habit, and 
taking from a little pocket just inside its lining a 
tiny bag, she pulled out a small ring and thrust it 
into Nancy’s hand. 

“ There,” she said, “ that’s the most precious thing 
I have, and I give it to her. It’s all gold, and isn’t 
that a beautiful pearl ? I used to wear it on my 
finger when I wanted to be very grand, but I’d 
rather she had it. Perhaps she won’t feel so lonely 
when she wears it, for she will remember that it 
was given to her by a little girl who is so sorry for 
her, and who loves her — yes, isn’t it queer? — al- 
though we have never met. You know, Nancy,” 
continued Rachel, “ I can quite sympathize with 
lonely people, for to a certain extent I know what 
it means. I miss my mother so very much. When 
I’m grown up, Nancy, I’m going all round the wide 
world looking for her.” 

“ Bless you, darling !” said old Nancy. “ Yes, I’ll 
give the ring and your prett}' message. And now, 
love, tell me, how is the little gentleman getting 
on? Have the old ladies made him their heir yet?” 

“ Not quite yet, Nancy ; but they like him — we 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST . 


10 ? 


all like him. He is a dear little boy, and Aunt 
Griselda and Aunt Katharine make such a fuss about 
him. Do you know that a week ago 1 saw Aunt 
Griselda actually put her arms about his neck and 
kiss him ! She kissed him three or four times. 
Wasn’t it wonderful? for she’s such a cold person. 
I think people can’t help being fond of little Phil, 
though he’s not exactly pretty. I heard Aunt 
Griselda and Aunt Katharine say that when they 
do really feel certain that he is the right heir they 
are going to have a great, tremendous party, and 
they will present him to every one as the heir of 
Avonsyde, and then immediately afterward he is to 
be sent to a preparatory school for Eton. Oh, won’t 
Kitty cry when he goes away !” 

“ Do you make out that the ladies will soon come 
to a decision, Miss Rachel ?” inquired the old serv- 
ant in a dubious tone. “ It’s a wonderful important 
matter — choosing an heir. Are they likely to settle 
it all in a hurry ?” 

Rachel laughed. 

“ I don’t know,” she said. “ Phil has been with 
us for four months now ; they haven’t been in such 
a hurry. I do hope it will be soon, for I want the 
party. How, good-by, Nancy ; I’ll come to see you 
before long again. Be sure you give my ring to the 
lady of the forest.” 


108 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


“ One moment, missy,” said old Nancy, stretch' 
ing out her hand and drawing the young girl back 
to her side. “One moment, Miss Eachel Lovel; 
I’m fain to see that little boy. Could you manage 
to bring him this way, missy \ Could you manage 
it without nobody finding out ? Is he the kind of 
little fellow who wouldn’t tell if you asked him 
earnest, most earnest, not ? I’d like to see him and 
the lady ; but no matter, Miss Eachel, I misdoubt 
me that you could manage a clever thing like that.” 

“ Oh, couldn’t I ?” said Eachel, her eyes sparkling. 
“ Why, I’d like it of all things ! I can easily coax 
Phil to come here, for he’s perfectly wild about 
squirrels and animals of all kinds, and I never saw 
such a lot of squirrels as there are in the oaks 
round here. Phil has got a pony too, and he shall 
come for a ride with me, and Eobert of course can 
come to take care of us. Oh, I’ll manage it ; but I 
didn’t know you were such a curious woman, 
Nancy.” 

The sun was already showing signs of taking its 
departure, and Eachel did not dare to prolong her 
interview another moment. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


109 


CHAPTEB X. 

PROOFS. 

Mrs. Lovel was becoming reconciled to her tower 
chamber. Ghostly as it appeared, no ghosts had 
visited her there ; on the contrary, she had slept 
soundly ; and as the days wore on and she found the 
quiet, simple life at Avonsyde soothing to her per- 
turbed nerves and restoring vigor to her somewhat 
feeble frame, she came to the conclusion that the 
tower was a particularly healthy place to sleep in. 
and that some of the superabundant vigor which 
characterized Miss Griselda must be owing to the 
splendid air which night after night she inhaled in 
her lofty chamber. 

As soon as ever this idea took possession of Mrs. 
Lovel’s mind, she would not have changed her 
ancient tower bedroom for the . most modern and 
luxurious which Avonsyde could offer. 

A thought — a pleasing thought — came ever and 
anon to the poor lady as she watched her boy’s 
peaceful face when he lay asleep on his little white 
bed. 


110 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ Suppose the healthy air of the tower makes 
Philip strong ?” 

Philip had been for some months at Avonsyde, 
and no one yet had found out that he possessed any 
special delicacy. Af first the pallor of his little 
^ face had been commented on ; but people soon got 
accustomed to this, and the boy was so merry, so 
good-humored, so brave, that those who watched 
him would have found it difficult to associate any 
special weakness with such lithe and agile move- 
ments, with so gay a spirit, with so merry and ring- 
ing a laugh. Miss Griselda had begun by declaring, 
both in her sister’s presence and also in that of 
Philip’s mother, that no decisive step could be taken 
until a doctor had thoroughly examined the boy ; 
but of late she had ceased to speak of any doctor, 
and had nodded her head in an approving manner 
when Phil had sung out to her from the tops of the 
tallest trees, or had galloped panting and laughing 
to her side on his rough forest pony. Miss Katha- 
rine said many times to her sister : 

“ Surely we need make no delay. There seems 
no doubt that the boy can absolutely trace his suc- 
cession from Rupert Lovel. Why should we waste 
money, Griselda, in inserting that advertisement 
any more in the newspapers when we have found 
our heir?” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


111 


Miss Lovel, however, was not to be unduly hur- 
ried in so momentous a matter. 

“We cannot be too careful, Katharine. Yes, 
we will insert the advertisement once or twice 
again. It was only yesterday I heard from Mr. 
Baring that some fresh claimants are writing to 
him through their lawyers. There is no hurry 
whatever, and we cannot be too careful.” 

Perhaps Miss Katharine took it rather too much 
as a matter of course that Phil could trace his de- 
scent, without flaw, from the Rupert Lovel who had 
quarreled with his father long ago. She was so ac- 
customed to hearing Mrs. Lovel say, “ I have got 
all the proofs ; I can trace the descent without a 
single break for you at any time,” that she began 
to believe she had gone through the genealogical 
tree, and had seen with her own eyes that the child 
was the lineal descendant of the elder branch of 
her house. 

Miss Griselda was far sharper than her sister. 
Miss Griselda knew perfectly that Phil’s descent 
was not yet proved, but. unlike most old ladies in 
her position, she disliked genealogy. She said 
openly that it puzzled her, and on one occasion when 
Mrs. Lovel, in her half-timid, half-fretful voice, said, 
“ Shall I bring you the proofs of Phil’s descent 
now ? Are you at leisure to look into the matter 
to-day Miss Griselda replied somewhat sharply : 


112 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“I hate genealogical trees. Katharine can un- 
derstand them, but I can’t. I don’t suppose, Mrs. 
Lovel, you would be so utterly devoid of all sense 
as to bring the boy here and to establish yourself in 
our house without having incontestable proofs that 
he is what you represent him to be. I take it for 
granted that Phil is a direct descendant of Bupert 
Lovel, but I shall certainly not make him our heir 
until more competent eyes than mine examine your 
proofs. At present I am more interested in watch- 
ing Phil’s health, for if he was fifty times descended 
from our ancestor and was weakly he should not 
inherit Avonsyde. When I have quite made up my 
mind that your boy is strong I will ask Mr. Baring, 
our business man, to come to Avonsyde and go into 
the proofs ; then, all being satisfactory, the boy shall 
be announced as our heir, and we will of course 
undertake his maintenance and education from that 
moment.” 

Mrs. Lovel breathed a slight sigh of relief. 

“ Having proclaimed Phil as your heir, nothing 
would induce you to revoke your decision after- 
ward ?” she asked nervously. 

“ Certainly not. What a strange speech to make ! 
The boy being strong, being the right age, and 
being an undoubted descendant of our house, what 
more could we want ? Best assured, Mrs. Lovel, 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


113 


that when your boy is proclaimed heir of Avonsyde, 
were fifty other claimants to come forward we 
should not even listen to their plea.” 

A faint pink, born of intense gratification, colored 
Mrs. Lovel’s pale cheeks. 

“I should like to be bold enough to ask you 
another question,” she said. 

Miss Griselda smiled in a freezing manner. 

“ Ask me what you please,” she answered. “ You 
must forgive my saying that I have already ob- 
served how singularly restless and uncomfortable 
you are. I think I can guess what is the matter. 
You are intensely curious about us and our money. 
Oh, no, I am not at all offended. Pray ask what 
you want to know.” 

Mrs. Lovel, though a timid, was a rather obtuse 
person, and she was not crushed by Miss Griselda’s 
withering sarcasm. Clearing her throat and pausing 
slightly before bringing out her words, she con- 
tinued : 

“ I have wondered — I could not help wondering 
— what you would do with your property if no heir 
turned up.” 

This speech, which was as audacious as it was un- 
expected, caused Miss Lovel to raise her finely 
marked eyebrows with some scorn. 

“ Your question is indiscreet,” she said ; “ but, as 


114 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


it happens, I do not mind answering it. Did no 
true heir appear for Avonsyde during our lifetime 
the place would be inherited by our nieces, Rachel 
and Kitty Lovel ; but they would only have a life- 
interest in the property, and would be solemnly 
bound over to continue our search for the missing 
heir.” 

“Rachel and Kitty will, then, be disappointed 
when Phil is announced as your representative,” 
said Mrs. Lovel, rising with sudden alacrity to her 
feet. “ Thank you so much for your valuable infor- 
mation, Miss Lovel. You may be quite certain that 
I shall regard what you have been good enough 
to confide to me as absolutely confidential.” 

“I have told yon nothing that everybody doesn’t 
know,” answered Miss Griselda. “ I never reveal 
secrets, and least of all to those who are not related 
to us. Talk to any one you please about what I 
have said to you. As to my brother’s children, I 
am thankful to say they have not yet attained an 
age when the absence or the presence of money is 
of the slightest moment to them. One word more, 
Mrs. Lovel, before we change our conversation. I 
have noticed without your telling me that you are 
extremely poor.” 

Mrs. Lovel interrupted with a great sigh. 

“ Oh l” she said, throwing up her hands and 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


115 


speaking with marked emphasis, “ I have known 
the sore pangs of poverty — of course, it has been 
genteel poverty. I could never forget Phil’s birth 
nor what I owed to my poor dear husband’s posi- 
tion, and of course I made a great effort to descend 
to nothing menial ; but, yes, I have been poor.” 

“You need not excite yourself about the past. 
When Phil’s identity is established and his position 
assured, it is the intention of my sister and myself 
to settle upon you for your life an income of £500 
a year. Pray don’t thank me ; we do it for our 
own sakes, as of course Phil’s mother has a certain 
position to keep up. We should recommend 
you to settle somewhere near your boy. What did 
you say ? No, no ; that cannot be. When every- 
thing is settled we must request you to remove to 
your own home.” 

For Mrs. Lovel had interrupted with the almost 
incoherent words : 

“ Am I not to live at Avonsyde always'*” 


116 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE LADY WHO CAME WITH A GIFT . 

Rachel did not forget her promise to old Haney. 
She had never taken so much pains to cultivate 
Phil’s acquaintance as Kitty had done. She had 
certainly joined in the almost universal chorus that 
he was a nice and lovable little boy, but she had 
not greatly troubled her head about his pursuits or 
his pleasures. She was too much taken up with the 
wonderful secret which she possessed with regard to 
the real existence of the lady of the forest. But 
now that the said lady seemed to wish to see Phil, 
and now that she, Rachel P had almost bound herself 
to bring Phil to the try sting- place in the forest, she 
began to regard him with new interest. Kitty and 
Phil had long ere this established a world of their 
own — a world peopled by caterpillars of enormous 
size, by the most sagacious spiders that were ever 
known to exist, by beetles of rare brilliancy, by 
birds, by squirrels — in short, by the numerous crea- 
ture-lif© of the great forest ; and last, but not least, 
by the fairies and gnomes which were supposed to 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


117 


haunt its dells. Kitty could tell many stories of 
forest adventures, of the wonderful and terrible 
bogs on which the luckless traveler alighted un- 
awares, and from which, unless instant help arrived, 
he could never hope to extricate himself. She spoke 
about the malicious little Jack-o’-lanterns which 
were supposed to allure the unwary into these de- 
structive places, and Phil, with a most vivid imagi- 
nation of his own, loved to lie at her feet and em- 
bellish her tales with numerous inventions. The 
two children were scarcety ever apart, and doubt- 
less one reason why Rachel thought so much of her 
secret was because Kitty was no longer her undi- 
vided companion. 

Now, however, she must seek out Kitty and Phil, 
and enter into their pursuits and take a share in 
their interests if she hoped to induce Phil to accom- 
pany her into the forest. Accordingly one day, 
with a book in her hand, she sauntered out into a 
very sunny part of the grounds. Phil, basking in 
the rays of the most brilliant sunshine, had thrown 
himself at the foot of an old sun-dial ; Kitty had 
climbed into the boughs of a small bare tree which 
stood near, and as usual the two were chatting 
eagerly. Rachel, with her head full of the lady of 
the forest, came up, to hear Kitty and Phil discuss- 
ing this very personage. 


118 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ She’s all in green,” said Kitty. “ Her dress is 
greener than the trees and her face is most beauti- 
ful, and her hair is gold and ” 

“ Ho,” interrupted Rachel ; “ she’s in gray ; and 
her hair is not gold — it is dark.” 

Then she colored high and bit her lips with vexa- 
tion, for she felt that in her eagerness she had given 
a clew to her dear real lady’s identity. 

Kitty raised her eyebrows in great surprise. 

“Why, Rachel,” she said, “it was you who told 
me she was in green. How very queer and dis- 
agreeable of you to make her so ugly and uninter- 
esting. People who wear gray are most uninterest- 
ing. You forget, Rachel, our lady is in green — 
greener than the grass. I do wish you would tell 
Phil all about her ; you can describe her so much 
better than I can.” 

“ She has a face which is almost too lovely,” con- 
tinued Rachel, taking up the cue on the instant and 
speaking with great animation. “ She lives in the 
deepest shades of the forest, and she appears never, 
never, except to those who belong to the forest. 
Those families who have belonged to the Hew For- 
est for hundreds of years have seen her, but out- 
siders never do. When she does appear she comes 
with a gift in her hand. Do you know what it is?” 

“ Ho,” said Phil, raising himself on his elbow and 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


119 


looking with great intentness at Bachel. “ I know 
what I would wish her to give me — that is, if she 
ever came to see me ; but of course I cannot possi- 
bly say what gifts she brings.” 

“ Those who have seen her,” said Bachel, “ catch 
just a shadow of the reflection of her lovely face, 
and they never lose it — never ! Some ladies of our 
house saw her, and their portraits are in our portrait- 
gallery, and they are much more beautiful than any 
of the other Lovels. She does not give beauty of 
feature — it is of expression ; and such a brightness 
shines from her. Yes, her gift is the gift of beauty ; 
and I do wish, and so does Kitty, that we could see 
her.” 

Phil smiled a little scornfully. 

“ Is that all she gives ?” he said. “ That wouldn’t 
be much to me. I mean if I saw her I know what 
I’d ask. I’d say, ‘lama boy, and beauty isn’t of 
much use to a boy; so please give me instead — 
money !’ ” 

“ Oh, Phil !” exclaimed both the little girls. 

“ She wouldn’t come to you,” said Kitty in a 
mournful tone. “ She wouldn’t look at any one so 
avaricious.” 

“ Besides, Phil,” continued Bachel, “ when Avon- 
syde is yours } 7 ou’ll be a rich man ; and I don’t 
think,” she added, “ that you are quite right when 


120 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


you say that beauty is of no use to a boy ; for if 
you have the kind of beauty the lady gives, it is like 
a great power, and you can move people and turn 
them as you will ; and of course you can use it for 
good, Phil.” 

“All right,” said Phil, “but Pd rather have 
money ; for if I had money I’d give it to mother, 
and then I needn’t be heir of Avonsyde, and — and 
— oh, I mustn’t say ! Kitty, I do wish we could go 
to Southampton again soon. I want to go there on 
most particular business. Do you think Aunt 
Grizel will take us before Christmas ?” 

“ Is it about the letter ?” asked Kitty. “ But you 
couldn’t have had an answer yet, Phil. There is no 
use in your going to Southampton before an answer 
can have arrived.” 

“ I suppose not,” said Phil in a gloomy voice. 
“ It’s a long, long time to wait, though.” 

“ What are you waiting for ?” asked Rachel. 

Phil raised very mournful eyes to her face. 

“You have a look of him, ” he said. “Oh, how 
I hate being heir of Avonsyde ! I wouldn’t be it 
for all the world but for mother. Kitty, shall we 
go into the forest and look for beetles ?” 

“I’ll come with you,” said Rachel. “You two 
are always together and I’m out in the cold, and I 
don’t mean to be in the cold any longer. I may 
come with you both, may I not ?” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


121 


Kitty smiled radiantly, Phil linked his little 
brown hand inside Rachel’s arm, and the three set 
off. 

Ko little girl could make herself more fascinat- 
ing than Rachel when she pleased. She developed 
on the instant a most astonishing knowledge of 
beetles and spiders ; she drew on her imagination 
for her facts, and deceived Kitty, but not Phil. Phil 
was a born little naturalist, and in consequence he 
only favored his elder cousin with a shrewd and 
comical look, and did not trouble himself even to 
negative her daring assertions. Seeing that she 
made no way in this direction, Rachel started a 
theme about which she possessed abundant knowl- 
edge. The Kew Forest had been more or less her 
nursery ; she knew its haunts well ; she knew where 
to look for the earliest primroses, the first violets, 
and also the very latest autumn flowers ; she knew 
where the holly berries were reddest, where the 
robins had their nests, and where the squirrels were 
most abundant ; and Phil, recognizing the tone of 
true knowledge, listened first with respect, then 
with interest, then with enthusiasm. Oh, yes, they 
must go to that dell ; they must visit that sunny 
bank. Before Rachel and her sister and cousin came 
home that day they had planned an excursion which 
surely must give the mysterious lady of the forest 


122 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


that peep at Phil which she so earnestly desired. 
Rachel was sorry to be obliged to include Kitty in 
the party, for Kitty had not been asked to pass in 
review by old Haney. Phil was the one whom 
Haney and the lady wished to see just once with 
their own eyes : Phil, who was to be heir of Avon- 
syde and who didn’t like it. Rachel went to bed 
quite jubilant, for she would have done anything to 
please the unknown lady who had won her capri- 
cious little heart. She did not guess that anything 
would occur to spoil her plans, and in consequence 
slept very peacefully. 

Phil had been much excited by Rachel’s words. 
He was a very imaginative child, and though he did 
not believe in ghosts, yet he was certainly impressed 
by what both the little girls had told hitn of the 
lady of the forest. He quite believed in this lady, 
and did not care to inquire too closely whether she 
was fairy or mortal. She appeared at rare in- 
tervals to the sons and daughters of the house of 
Lovel, and when she did she came with a gift. 
Phil did not altogether believe that this lovely, 
graceful, and gracious lady would be so obdurate 
as only to bestow T an unvalued gift of beauty. He 
thought that if he were lucky enough to see her 
he might so intercede with her that she would give 
him a bag of gold instead. He need keep no secrets 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


123 


from her, for if she was a fairy she must know them 
already ; and he might tell her all about his dif- 
ficulties, and how his small heart was torn with 
great love for Eupert and great love for his mother. 
He might tell the lady of the forest how very little 
he cared for Avonsyde, except as a possible future 
home for his gay and brave Cousin Eupert, and he 
might ask her to give him the bag of precious gold 
to satisfy his mother and keep her from starving. 
Phil was dreadfully oppressed with all the secrets 
he had to keep. Happy as he was at Avonsyde, 
there were so many, many things he must not talk 
about. He must never mention Eupert, nor 
Gabrielle, nor Peggy ; he must never breathe the 
name of Belmont nor say a word about his old nurse 
Betty. All the delightful times he had spent with 
his Australian cousins must be as though they had 
never been. He must not tell about the delicious 
hours he and Betty had spent together in the little 
cottage behind the garden when his mother had 
been away in Melbourne. He must not speak about 
the excursions that Eupert had taken with him. A 
veil, a close veil, must be spread over all the past, 
and the worst of it was that he knew the reason 
why. His mother wanted him to get what Eupert 
would have been so much more fitted for. Well ! 
well 1 He loved his mother and he could not break 


124 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


her heart, so he kept all these little longings and 
desires to himself, and only half let out his secrets 
a dozen times a day. On one point, however, he 
was firm and stanch as a little Spartan : he never 
breathed a sigh nor uttered a groan which could be 
construed into even the semblance of physical pain. 

When he felt quite exhausted, so tired that it was 
an effort to move, he would spring up again at 
Kitty’s least word and, with the drops on his little 
brow, climb to the top of that straight, tall tree 
once more and hide his face at last in the friendly 
sheltering leaves until he got back his panting 
breath. The splendid air of Avonsyde undoubtedly 
strengthened him, but the strain of alwa} r s appear- 
ing bright and well was sometimes almost too 
much, and he wondered how long he could go on 
pretending to be quite the strongest little boy in 
the world. He fancied now how nice it would be 
to tell the kind lady of the forest how weak he 
really was ; how his heart often beat almost to suf- 
focation ; what cruel pain came suddenly to stab 
and torture him. Oh ! he could show her plainly 
that money was the gift for him, and that Rupert, 
who was so valiant, so strong, so splendid, was the 
only right heir to the old place. 

Phil greatly enjoyed his tower bedroom. Not a 
particle of the nervousness which made his mother 


TEE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


125 


uneasy assailed him. The only thing he did regret 
was that he could not sleep quite at the very top of 
the tower, in those attic rooms inhabited by Miss 
Griselda and Miss Katharine. When some of those 
bad attacks of pain and breathlessness assailed him, 
he liked, notwithstanding the exertion, to creep up 
and up those winding stone stairs, for he knew that 
when he got to the top and had attained his refuge 
he could really rest ; he might throw off all the 
Spartan and be a little human boy who could moan 
and sigh and even shed a few secret tears for the 
gallant Rupert whom he loved. Phil had got into 
a habit of not even telling his mother of those queer 
attacks of weakness and breathlessness which came 
over him. Nothing annoyed and distressed her so 
much as to hear of them, and little Phil was by 
degrees beginning to feel a sort of protective love 
toward the rather weak woman : their positions 
were being unconsciously reversed. Mrs. Lovel 
seldom came to the tower bedroom in the day-time. 
Under the pretext that the stairs wearied her, she 
had begged to be allowed to have a dressing-room 
in a more modern part of the house, so Phil could 
be quite alone and undisturbed when he chose to 
visit his room. One of Miss Griselda’s excellent 
rules for children was that they must retire early 
to bed. Phil, in Australia, had sat up far later 


126 


THE LAD T OF THE FOREST. 


than was good for him, but now at Avonsyde he 
and Kitty were always expected to have entered 
the land of dreams not later than eight o’clock in 
the evening. Mrs. Lovel seldom came upstairs be- 
fore midnight, and in consequence Phil spent 
several hours alone every night in his quaint bed- 
room. He was often not at all sleepy, and on these 
occasions he would open one of the tiny deep-set 
windows, and look out into the night and listen to 
the hootings of some owls which had long ago made 
a home for themselves in a portion of the old tower. 
On other occasions he would amuse himself with 
one of Kitty’s story-books, or again he would ar- 
range some very precious little collections of wild 
birds’ eggs and other forest treasures. 

On this particular night, after Rachel’s and 
Kitty’s conversation, he was more than usually 
wakeful. He got into bed, for Aunt Griselda told 
him to be sure to undress and go to sleep as quickly 
as possible ; but finding sleep ver} T far away from 
his wakeful eyes he got up, and, after the fashion of 
a restless little boy, began to perambulate the room 
and to try to discover anything of interest to divert 
his attention. A very old horse-hair trunk of his 
mother’s stood in one corner of the room ; it had 
never been unpacked, for it was only supposed to 
contain books and some household treasures not 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


127 


immediately required by Mrs. Lovel. Phil had once 
or twice coaxed his mother to unpack the old trunk, 
for among the books was his pet “ Robinson Crusoe.” 
There was also an old box of paints which Rupert 
had given him, and a queer, old-fashioned cup, made 
of horn, which Rupert and he always took with 
them when they went for a day's excursion into any 
of the neighboring forests. Phil saw now, to his 
great delight, that the key was in the lock of the 
old trunk, and it occurred to him that he could pass 
an agreeable hour rummaging among its contents 
for his beloved “ Robinson Crusoe ” and his old 
horn cup. He accordingly set a candlestick on the 
floor, and opening the trunk knelt down by it and 
began to forage. He worked hard, and the exer- 
tion tired him and brought on an attack of breath- 
lessness ; but he was much interested in the sight of 
many old home treasures and had no idea how time 
was flying. He could not find either his “ Robin- 
son Crusoe” or his horn cup, but he came across 
another treasure wrapped up in an old piece of flan- 
nel which gave him intense delight. This was no 
other than a silver tankard of quaint device and 
very Old-World pattern, with a coat of arms and 
the words “ Tyde what may ” inscribed on one side. 
Phil knew the tankard well, and raising it to his 
lips he kissed it tenderly. 


128 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ Why, this belongs to Uncle Bupert and to Bel- 
mont !” he exclaimed. “ The very same dear old 
tankard which Gabrielle is so proud of. I’ve seen 
it dozens of times. Well, I never thought Uncle 
Bupert would have given this dear old tankard to 
mother. How kind of him ! I wonder mother 
never spoke of it. Oh, dear, what stories Gabrielle 
has told me about it ! She used to call it a magical 
tankard and said it had a history. Mother must 
have quite forgotten she had it in the old trunk. 
How delighted Bachel and Kitty will be when I 
show it to them to-morrow.” 

Phil was so excited over his discovery that he be- 
came instantly careless as to finding either his 
“ Bobinson Crusoe ” or his horn cup, and pushing 
the rest of contents of the trunk back into their 
place and turning the lock, he crept into bed, car- 
rying the beloved tankard with him. When his 
mother came upstairs presently she found the boy 
fast asleep, and little guessed what treasure he 
clasped in his arms. 

It is true that little Phil had entered the land of 
dreams; it is also true that in that enchanted land 
he went through experiences so delightful, through 
adventures so thrilling, that when in the dull gray 
November morning he awoke to listen to his moth- 
er’s monotonous breathing, he simply could do 


TEE LADY OF THE FOREST. 129 

nothing but step out of bed and determine to follow 
his dreams if necessary to the end of the world. 
The light had scarcely come. He would dress him- 
self hastil} r and, taking the enchanted tankard with 
him, go into the forest all alone, in the hopes of 
meeting the beautiful lady who came with a gift. 


THE LADY OF TEE FOREST . 


130 


CHAPTER XII. 

LOST IN THE NEW FOREST. 

Mrs. Lovel slept very soundly, and Phil did not 
disturb her when he opened the ponderous oak door 
of his bedroom, and clasping the tankard tightly in 
both hands went downstairs and out. It was very, 
very early, for Phil had mistaken the shining of the 
moon for the first light of day. Not a soul was up 
at Avonsyde, but the little boy easily found a means 
of exit, and in a few moments was running quickly 
down the straight avenue which led into the forest. 
He was intensely happy and excited, for the fra- 
grance of his delightful dreams was still surrounding 
him, and he felt confident that if he only ran far 
enough he must find that wonderful lady whose 
dress was greener than the trees and whose face 
was so radiantly beautiful. The morning was 
damp and gloomy, for the moon set very soon after 
Phil started on his walk, and the sun had no idea 
of getting up for another couple of hours. The 
forest, w T hich looked so pleasant and cheery by day, 
was now all that was dark and dismal ; so of course 


THE LADY OF THE FOR E8T. 131 

the first thing that happened to poor little Phil was 
completely to lose his way. 

He possessed a very high spirit, and such small 
disadvantages as stumbling in the dark and tearing 
himself with unseen briers, and altogether becom- 
ing a sadly chilled and damp little boy, could not 
quench the ardent hope which impelled him to go 
forward. He pushed on bravely, having a kind of 
confidence that the further he got from Avonsyde 
the more likely 7 ' he was to meet the lady. Presently 
the darkness gave place to a gray, dim light, and 
then, in an incredibly short space of time, the little 
boy found himself surrounded by a delicious golden 
atmosphere. The sun climbed up into the heavens ; 
the mist vanished ; daylight and sunlight had come. 
Phil took off his cap, and leaning against a tree 
laughed with pleasure. It wanted three weeks to 
Christmas ; but what a lovely morning, and how 
the sun glittered and sparkled on the frosty ground ! 
Some shy robin-redbreasts hopped about and twit- 
tered gleefully ; the squirrels were intensely busy 
cracking their breakfast-nuts ; and Phil, raising his 
eyes to watch them, discovered that he was hungry. 
His hunger he could not gratify, but the thirst 
which also assailed him could be easily assuaged, 
for a brook babbled noisily not many feet away. 
Phil ran to it, and dipping his tankard into the 


132 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


water took a long draught. He had not an idea 
where he was, but with the sun shining and the 
birds singing no part of the forest could be lonety, 
and he tripped on in gay spirits, hoping to see the 
lady with the green dress coming to meet him 
through the trees. He had listened to many stories 
about the forest lady from Kitty. She appeared 
very, very seldom to any one, but when she did 
come she chose a solitary place and moment, for it 
was one of her unbroken rules never to reveal her- 
self to two people together. Phil, remembering 
this peculiarity of the beautiful lady, took care to 
avoid the high-road and to plunge deeper and deeper 
into the most shady recesses and the most infre- 
quented paths. As he walked on, whether from ex- 
haustion or from hunger, or from an under-current of 
strong excitement, he became really a little feverish ; 
his heart beat a great deal too fast, and his imagina- 
tion was roused to an abnormal extent. He knew that 
he had lost his way, but as the hours went on he 
became more and more convinced that he would 
find the lady, and of course when he saw her and 
looked in her face his troubles would be ended. He 
would pour out all his cares and all his longings 
into the ears of this wonderful being. She would 
soothe him ; she would pity him ; and, above all 
things, she would give him that golden store which 
would make his mother contented and happy. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


133 


“ Perhaps she will carry me home too,” thought 
little Phil, “ for though I am always making be- 
lieve to be well, I am not really a strong boy, and I 
am very tired now.” 

The hours went on, the daylight grew brighter, 
and then came an unexpected change. The sunny 
morning was treacherous, after all ; dark clouds 
approached from the north ; they covered the 
smiling and sunny sky, and then a cold rain which 
was half-sleet began to fall mercilessly. Phil had 
of course not dreamed of providing himself with a 
great-coat, and though at first the trees supplied 
him with a certain amount of shelter, their branches, 
which were mostly bare, were soon drenched, and 
the little boy was wet through. He had climbed 
to the top of a rising knoll, and looking down 
through the driving rain he heard a stream brawling 
loudly about forty feet below. He fancied that if 
he got on lower ground he might find shelter, so 
he ran as quickly as he could in the direction of 
the hurrying water. Oh, horror ! what had hap- 
pened to him ? What was this ? The ground shook 
under his little footsteps. When he tried to step 
either backward or forward he sank. Phil caught 
his breath, laughed a little because he did not want 
to cry, and said aloud : 

“Kitty is quite right; there are bogs in the 
forest, and Pm in one,”.. 


134 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


He was a very brave child, and even his present 
desperate situation did not utterly daunt him. 

“ How Pm in real danger,” he said aloud. “ In 
some ways it’s rather nice to be in real danger. 
Rupert and I used often to talk about it and wonder 
what we’d do, and Rupert always said : ‘ Phil, be 
sure when the time comes that you don’t lose your 
presence of mind.’ Well, the time has come now, 
and I must try to be very cool. When I stay per- 
fectly still I find that I don’t sink — at least very 
little. Oh, how tired I am ! I wish some one would 
come. I wish the rain would stop. I know I’ll fall 
presently, for Pm so fearfully tired. I wish the 
lady would come — I do wish she would ! If she 
knew that I was in danger she might hurry to me — 
that is, if she’s as kind and beautiful as Kitty tells 
me she is. Oh, dear 1 oh, dear ! I know I shall fall 
soon. Well, if I do I’m certain to sink into the 
bog, and— Rupert will have Avonsyde. Oh, poor 
mother ! how she will wonder where I’ve got to ! 
How, I really don’t want to sink in a bog even for 
Rupert’s sake, so I must keep my presence of mind 
and try to be as cheerful as possible. Suppose I sing 
a little— that’s much better than crying and will 
make as much noise in case any one is passing by.” 

So Phil raised a sweet and true little voice and 
tried to rival the robins. But a poor little half- 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


135 


starving boy stuck fast in a bog is so far a remark- 
able spectacle that the robins themselves, coming 
out after the shower to dry their feathers, looked 
at him in great wonder. He was a brave little boy 
and he sang sweetly, and they liked the music he 
made very well ; but what was he doing there ? 
Perching themselves on the boughs of some low 
trees which grew near the brook, they glanced shy- 
ly at him out of their bright eyes, and then quite 
unknowingly performed a little mission for his res- 
cue. They flew to meet a lady whom they knew 
well and from whose hand they often pecked crumbs, 
and they induced this lady to turn aside from her 
accustomed path and to follow them as they hopped 
and flew in front of her ; for the lady was suddenly 
reminded by the robins of some little birds at home 
for which she meant to gather a particular weed 
which grew near the bog. 

The rain was over, the sun was again shining 
brightly, when little Phil, tired, sick unto death, 
raised his eyes and saw, with the sunlight behind 
her, a lady, graceful and gracious in appearance, 
coming down the path. He did not notice whether 
her dress was gray or green ; he only knew that to 
him she looked radiant and lovely. 

“ Oh, you have been a long time coming, but 
please save me now !” he sobbed, and then he did 
tumble into the bog, for he suddenly fainted away. 


136 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

ONE MORE SECRET. 

When Phil opened his eyes he was quite sure for 
several moments that all his best dreams were 
realized. He was in a very tiny parlor (he loved 
small rooms, for they reminded him of the cottage 
at the back of the garden) ; he was lying full length 
on an old-fashioned and deliciously soft sofa, and 
a lady with a tender and beautiful face was bending 
over him ; the firelight flickered in a cozy little 
grate and the sunlight poured in through a latticed 
window. The whole room was a picture of com- 
fort, and Phil drew a deep sigh of happiness. 

“ Have you given mother the bag of gold ? And 
are we back in the cottage at the back of the 
garden ?” he murmured. 

“Drink this, dear,” said the quiet, grave voice, 
and then a cup of delicious hot milk was held to his 
little blue lips, and after he had taken several sips 
of the milk he was able to sit up and look round 
him. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


137 


“ You are the lady of the forest, aren’t you ? But 
where’s your green dress ?” 

“I am a lady who lives in the forest, my dear 
child. I am so glad I came down to that dreadful 
bog and rescued you. What is your name, my dear 
little boy ?” 

“ My name ? I am Phil Lovel. Do you know, 
it is so sad, but I am going to have Avonsyde. I 
am the heir. I don’t want it at all. It was princi- 
pally about Avonsyde I came out this morning to 
find you. Yes, I had a great escape in the bog, but 
I felt almost sure that you would come to save me. 
It was very good of you. I am not a strong boy, 
and I don’t suppose I could have stood up in that 
dreadful cold, damp bog much longer. Although 
I’m not bad at bearing pain, yet the ache in my 
legs was getting quite terrible. Well, it’s all right 
now, and I’m so glad I’ve found you. Are you 
very rich, lady of the forest ? And may I tell you 
everything?” 

Had Phil not been absorbed in his own little re- 
marks he might have noticed a curious change com- 
ing over the lady’s face. For one brief instant her 
eyes seemed to blaze, her brows contracted as if 
with pain, and the hand with which she held the 
restorative to Phil’s lips trembled. Whatever emo- 
tion overcame her its effect was brief. When the 


138 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


boy, wondering at her silence, raised his eyes to 
look at her, it was only a sweet and quiet glance 
which met his. 

“I have heard of little Philip Lovel,” she said. 
“ I am glad to see you. I am glad I saved you 
from a terrible fate. If no one had come to your 
rescue you must eventually have sunk in that dread- 
ful bog.” 

“ But I was quite sure you would come,” answered 
Phil. “ Do you know, I went out this morning ex- 
pecting to meet you. Kitty and I have spoken of 
you so very, very often. We have made up lovely 
stories about you ; but you have always been in 
green and your face dazzled. Now you are not in 
green. You are in a dark, plain dress — as plain a 
dress as mother used to wear when we lived in the 
house behind the garden ; and though you are 
beautiful — yes, I really think you are beauti- 
ful — you don’t dazzle. Well, I am glad I have 
met you. Did you know that a little boy was 
wandering all over the forest looking for you to- 
day ? And did you come out on purpose to meet 
him and to save him ? Oh, I trust, I do trust you 
have got the gift with you !” 

“ I don’t quite understand you, my dear little 
boy,” said the lady. “ No, I did not come to meet 
you. I simply took a walk between the showers. 


THE LAB 7 OF THE FOREST. 


139 


You are talking too much and too fast; you must 
be quiet now, and I will put this warm rug over 
you and you can try to sleep. When you are quite 
rested and warm, Nancy, my servant, will take you 
back to Avonsyde.” 

Phil was really feeling very tired ; his limbs 
ached ; his throat was dry and parched ; he was 
only too glad to lie still on that soft sofa in that 
tiny room and not pretend to be anything but a 
sadly exhausted little boy. He even closed his eyes 
at the lady’s bidding, but he soon opened them 
again, for he liked to watch her as she sat by the 
fire. No, she was scarcely dazzling, but Phil could 
quite believe that she might be considered beautiful. 
Her eyes were dark and gray ; her hair was also 
dark, very soft, and very abundant; her mouth 
had an expression about it which Phil seemed partly 
to know, which puzzled him, for he felt so sure that 
he had seen just such resolute and well cut lips in 
some one else. 

“ It’s Rachel !” he said suddenly under his breath. 
“ How very, very queer that Rachel should have a 
look of the lady of the forest !” 

He half-roused himself to watch the face, which 
began more and more to remind him of Rachel’s. 

But as he looked there came a curious change 
over the lady’s expressive face. The firm lips 


140 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


trembled ; a look of agonized yearning and longing 
filled the pathetic gray eyes, and a few words said 
aloud with unspeakable sadness reached the little 
boy. 

“ So Kitty speaks of me — little, little Kitty speaks 
of me.” 

The lady covered her face with her hands, and 
Phil, listening very attentively, thought he heard 
her sob. 

After this he really closed his eyes and went to 
sleep. When he awoke the winter’s light had dis- 
appeared, the curtains were drawn across the little 
window, and a reading-lamp with a rose-colored 
shade made the center of the table look pretty. 
There was a cozy meal spread for two on the board, 
and when Phil opened his eyes and came back to 
the world of reality, the lady was bending over the 
fire and making some crisp toast. 

“You have had a nice long sleep,” she said in a 
cheerful voice. “Now will you come to the table 
and have some tea ? Here is a fresh egg for you, 
which Brownie, my dear speckled hen, laid while 
you were asleep. You feel much better, don’t you ? 
How you must make a very good tea, and when you 
have finished Nancy will take you as far as Kufus’ 
Stone, where I have asked a man with a chaise to 
meet her ; he will drive you back to Avonsyde in 
less than an hour.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


141 


Phil felt quite satisfied with these arrangements. 
He also discovered that he was very hungry ; so he 
tumbled off the sofa, and with his light-brown hair 
very much tossed and his eyes shining, took his 
place at the tea-table. There he began to chatter, 
and did not at all know that the lady was leading 
him on to tell her as much as possible about Rachel 
and Kitty and about his life at Avonsyde. He an- 
swered all her questions eagerly, for he had by no 
means got over his impression that she was really 
the lady whom he had come to seek. 

“ I don’t want Avonsyde, you know,” he said 
suddenly, speaking with great earnestness. “ Oh, 
please, if you are the lady of the forest and can give 
those who seek you a gift, let my gift be a bag of 
gold ! I will take it back to mother in the chaise 
to-night, and then — and then— poor mother ! My 
mother is very poor, lady, but when I give her your 
gold she will be rich, and then we can both go away 
from Avonsyde.” 

For a moment or two the lady with the sad gray 
eyes looked with wonder and perplexity at little 
Phil — some alarm even was depicted on her face, 
but it suddenly cleared and lightened. She rose 
from her chair, and going up to the child stooped 
and kissed him. 

“You don’t want Avonsyde. Then I am your 


142 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


friend, little Phil Lovel. Here are three kisses — 
one for you, one for Rachel, one for Kitty. 
Give ray kisses as from yourself to the little 
girls. But I ara not what you think me, Phil. 
I am no supernatural lady who can give gifts 
or can dazzle with unusual beauty. I am just 
a plain woman who lives here most of the year 
and earns her bread with hard and daily labor. I 
cannot give money, for I have not got it. I can be 
your friend, however. Hot a powerful friend — 
certainly not ; but no true friendship is to be lightly 
thrown away. Why, my little man, how disap- 
pointed you look ! Are you really going to crv ?” 

“ Oh, no, I won’t cry !” said Phil, but with a very 
suspicious break in his voice ; “ but I am so tired of 
all the secrets and of pretending to be strong and 
all that. If you are not the lady and have not got 
the bag of gold, mother and I will have to stay on 
at Avonsyde, for mother is very poor and she would 
starve if we went away. You don’t know what a 
dreadful weight it is on one’s mind always to be 
keeping secrets.” 

“ I am very sorry, Phil. As it happens I do know 
what a secret means. I am very sorry for you, 
more particularly as I am just going to add to your 
secrets. I want you to promise not to tell anv one 
at Avonsyde about my little house in the forest nor 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


143 


about me. I think you will keep my secret when I 
tell you that if it is known it will do me very grave 
injury.” 

“ 1 would not injure you,” said Phil, raising his 
sweet eyes to her face. “ 1 do hate secrets and I 
find them dreadfully hard to keep, but one more 
won’t greatly matter, only I do wish you were the 
real lady of the forest.” 

When Nancy came back to the little cottage after 
disposing of Phil comfortably in the chaise and 
giving the driver a great many emphatic directions 
about him, she went straight into her lady’s pres- 
ence. She was a privileged old servant, and she 
did not dream of knocking at the door of the little 
sitting-room ; no, she opened it boldly and came in, 
many words crowding to her lips. 

“This will upset her fine,” she muttered under 
her breath. “ Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! I’ll have to do a 
lot of talking to-night. I’m not one to say she gives 
wav often, but when she do, why, she do, and that’s 
the long and short of it.” 

Nancy opened the door noisily and entered the 
room with a world of purpose depicted on her 
honest, homely face. 

“ Now, ma’am,” she began, “ I have seen him off 
as snug and safe as possible, and the driver promises 
to deliver him sure as sure into his mother’s arms 


144 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


within the hour. A pretty sort of a mother she 
must be to let a bit of a babe like that wander 
about since before the dawn and never find him 
yet. Now, ma’am, you’re not settling down to that 
needlework at this hour? Oh, and }^ou do look 
pale! Why, Mrs, Lovel, what’s the use of over- 
doing it?” 

The lady so addressed raised her sad eyes to 
the kindly pair looking down at her and said 
gently : 

“ I am determined to be at least as brave as that 
brave little boy. He would not cry, although he 
longed to. I must either work or cry, so I choose 
to work. Nancy, how many yards of the lace are 
now finished?” 

“Ten, I should think,” answered Nancy, whose 
countenance expressed strong relief at the turn the 
conversation had taken. “ I should say there was 
ten yards done, ma’am, but I will go upstairs and 
count them over if you like.” 

“ I wish you would. If there are ten yards up- 
stairs there are nearly two here ; that makes just 
the dozen. And you think it is quite the best lace 
I have made yet, Nancy ?” 

“ Oh, ma’am, beautiful is no word ; and how your 
poor eyes stand the fine work passes my belief. But 
now, now, where’s the hurry for to-night ? Why, 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


145 


your hands do shake terrible. Let me make you a 
cup of cocoa and light a fire in your bedroom, and 
you go to bed nice and early, Mrs. Lovel.” 

Mrs. Lovel threw down her work with a certain 
gesture of impatience. 

“ I should lie awake all night,” said. “ Do you 
know, Nancy, that the little boy spoke of Kitty ? 
He said my baby Kitty often mentioned the lady 
of the forest — that he and she both did. At first I 
thought that he meant me and that Kitty really 
spoke of her mother ; but now I believe he was al- 
luding to some imaginary forest lady.” 

“ The green forest lady,” interposed Nancy. “ I 
don’t say, ma’am, that she’s altogether a fancy, 
though. There’s them — yes. there’s them whose 
words may be relied on who are said to have spoke 
with her.” 

“ Well, no matter. I am finishing this lace to- 
night, Nancy, because I mean to go to London to- 
morrow.” 

“ You, ma’am ? Oh, oh, and it ain’t three months 
since you were there !” 

“Yes, I must go. I want to see my husband’s 
lawyers. Nancy, this suspense is killing me !” 

“ Oh, my poor, dear, patient lady ! But it ain’t 
so many months now to wait. Miss Rachel’s birth- 
day comes in May.” 


146 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ Nancy, the mother-hunger is driving me wild. 
If I could only see them both and kiss them once I 
should be satisfied.” 

“You shall kiss them hundreds of times when 
May comes,” answered the old servant. “ And they 
are well and bonny and Miss Rachel loves you ; and 
the little one, w r hv, of course her heart will go out 
to you when you hold her in your arms again.” 

“ Six years !” repeated the poor lady, clasping her 
hands, letting the lovely lace fall to the ground, and 
gazing into the glowing fire in the grate. “ Six 
years for a mother to starve ! Oh, Nancy, how 
could good women be so cruel? I believe Miss 
Grizel and Miss Katharine are good. How could 
they be so cruel ?” 

“Old maids!” said Nancy, with a little snort. 
“ Do you suppose, ma’am, that those old ladies 
know anything of the mother feel? Well, Mrs. 
Lovel, the children are two bonny little lassies, and 
you have given up much for them. You did it for 
their good, ma’am — that they should have full and 
plenty and be provided for. You did it all out of 
real self-denial, ma’am.” 

“ I made up my mind the day Kitty fainted for 
want of food,” answered Mrs. Lovel. “ I made up 
my mind and I never flinched ; but oh ! Nancy* 
think of its being in vain ! For, after all, that little 


THE LADY OF THE. FOREST. 


147 


boy is the true heir. He is a dear little fellow, and 
although I ought to hate him I can’t. He is the 
true heir ; and if so, you know, Haney, that my lit- 
tle girls come back to me. How have I really bet- 
tered them by giving them six years of luxury 
when, after all, the}' must return to my small life?” 

“And to the best of mothers,” answered Haney. 
“ And to two or three hundred pounds put by care 
ful ; and they hearty and bonny and Miss Bachel’s 
education half-complete. Ho, ma’am, they are not 
worse off, but a deal better off for what you have 
done for them — that's if the worst comes. But how 
can you say that that little boy will have Avon- 
syde ? Why, he hasn’t no strength in him — not a 
bit. Thin is no word for him, and he’s as light as 
a feather, and so white ! Why, I carried him in 
my arms as far as the Stone, and I didn’t feel as if 
I had nothing in them. Why, ma’am, all the 
country round knows that the ladies at Avonsyde 
are looking out for a strong heir ; they go direct 
against the will if they give the old place to a sickly 
one. Ho, ma’am, Master Phil Lovel ain’t the 
heir for Avonsyde. And is it likely, ma’am, that 
the ladies would be putting advertisements in all 
the papers, foreign and otherwise, for the last five 
years and a half, and sending over special mes- 
sengers to the other side of the globe, and never 


148 


TEE LAD T OF TEE FOREST. 


yet a strong, hearty, real heir turn up? Why, of 
oourse, Mrs. Lovel, he ain’t to be found, and that’s 
why he don’t come.” 

Mrs. Lovel smiled faintly. 

“Well, Nancy,” she said, “ I must at least go to 
town to-morrow, and as that is the case I will take 
your advice and go up to my room now. No, I 
could not eat anything. Good-night, dear Nancy.” 

When Mrs. Lovel left the little sitting-room Nancy 
stayed behind to give it a good “ redding-up” as she 
expressed it. With regard to sitting-rooms, and in- 
deed all rooms arranged for human habitation, 
Nancy was a strict disciplinarian ; rigid order was 
her motto. Chairs placed demurely in rows ; a table 
placed exactly in the middle of the room ; books ar- 
ranged at symmetrical intervals round it ; each 
ornament corresponding exactly to its fellow ; blinds 
drawn to a certain level — these were her ideas of a 
nice cheerful apartment. Could she have had her 
own choice with regard to carpets, she would have 
had them with a good dash of orange in them ; her 
curtains should always be made of moreen and be 
of a bright cardinal tone. A tidy and a cheerful 
room was her delight ; she shuddered at the tend- 
encies, so-called artistic, of the present day. Put- 
ting the little sitting-room in order now, her feet 
knocked against something which gave forth a 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


149 


metallic sound ; stooping, she picked up from the 
floor Phil’s tankard. She examined it curiously 
and brought it to the light. The quaint motto in- 
scribed on one of its sides — “ Tyde what may” — was 
well known to her as the motto of the house of 
Lovel. 

“ I know nothing about this old cup,” she said to 
herself ; “ it may or may not be of value ; but it 
looks old — uncommon old ; and it has the family 
coat of arms and them outlandish, meaningless 
words on it. Of course it was little Master Phil 
brought it in to-day and forgot all about it. Well, 
well, it may mean something or it may not ; but 
my name ain’t Nancy White if I don’t set it by for 
the present and bide my time about returning it. 
Ah, my dear, dear lady, it won’t be Nancy’s fault 
if your bonny little girls don’t get their own out of 
Avonsyde 1” 


150 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XIY. 

THE AUSTRALIANS. 

Messrs. Baring & Baring, the lawyers who trans 
acted all the business matters for the Misses 
Lovel, were much worried about Christmas-time 
with clients. The elder Mr. Baring was engaged 
with a gentleman who had come from the country 
to see him on special and urgent business, and in 
consequence his son, a bright-looking, intelligent 
man of thirty, was obliged to ask two gentlemen to 
wait in his anteroom or to call again, while he him 
self interviewed a sorrowful-looking lady who re- 
quired immediate attention. 

The gentlemen decided to wait the younger Mr. 
Baring’s leisure, and in consequence he was able to 
attend to his lady client without impatience. 

“ The business which brings you to me just before 
Christmas, Mrs. Lovel, must be of the utmost im- 
portance,” he began. 

Mrs. Lovel raised her veil and a look of intense 
pain filled her eyes. 

“ It is of importance to me,” she said, “ for it 


THE LADY OF THE F0EE8T. 


151 


means — yes, I greatty fear it means that my six 
years of bitter sacrifice have come to nothing and 
the heir is found.” 

Mr. Baring raised his eyebrows; he did not 
trouble to inquire to whom she had alluded. After 
a brief pause he said quietly : 

“ There is no reason whatever for you to despair. 
At this present moment my father and I are 
absolutely aware of two claimants for the Avonsyde 
heirship — only one can inherit the place and both 
may prove unsuitable. You know that the ladies 
will not bequeath their property to any one who 
cannot prove direct descent from the elder branch ; 
also the heir must be strong and vigorous. Up to 
the present neither my father nor I have seen any 
conclusive proof of direct succession. We are quite 
aware that a little boy of the name of Lovel is at 
present on a visit at Avonsyde, but we also know 
that the Misses Lovel will take no definite steps in 
the matter without our sanction. I would not fret 
beforehand, Mrs. Lovel. It seems tame and old- 
fashioned advice, but I should recommend you for 
your own sake to hope for the best.” 

“ I will do so,” said Mrs. Lovel, rising to her feet. 
u I will do so, even though I can no longer buoy 
myself up with false dreams. I feel absolutely con- 
vinced that before BachePs birthday an heir will be 


152 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


found for the old place. Let it be so — I shall not 
struggle. It ma,y be best for ray children to come 
back to me ; it will certainly be best for me to have 
them with me again. I won’t take up any more of 
your time this morning, Mr. Baring.” 

“Well, come again to-morrow morning. I have 
got some more work for you and of quite a profit- 
able kind. By the way, the new claimants — they 
have just come from Australia and I am to see them 
in a moment — are in a desperate taking about an 
old tankard which seems to have been a family 
heirloom and would go far to prove their descent. 
The tankard is lost; also a packet of valuable 
letters. You see, my dear madam, their claim, as 
it stands at present, is anything but complete.” 

Mrs. Lovel said a few more words to Mr. Baring, 
and then promising to call on the morrow, left him. 
To effect her exit from the house she had to pass 
through the room where the Australians were 
waiting. Her interview had excited her ; her pale 
face w r as slightly flushed; her veil was up. Per- 
haps the slight color on those usually pale cheeks 
had brought back some of the old and long-forgotten 
girlish bloom. The winter’s day was sunshiny, 
and as she walked through the waiting-room the 
intense light throwing her features into strong 
relief, so strongly and so vividly did that slight 


THE LAD T OF THE FOREST. 153 

and rather worn figure stand out that a man who 
had been sitting quietly by started forward with 
an exclamation : 

“ Surely I am addressing Eachel Cunningdale ?” 

The lady raised her eyes to the great, strong, 
bearded face. 

“You are Eupert Lovel,” she answered quietly. 

“ I am, and this is my boy. Here, Eupert, lacf^, 
this lady was once your mother’s greatest friend. 
Why, Eachel, it is twenty years since we met. 
You were scarcely grown up and such a bright bit 
of a girl, and now ” 

“And now,” answered Mrs. Lovel, “I have been 
a wife and a mother. I am now a widow and, I 
may say it, childless ; and, Eupert, the strangest 
part of all, my name too is Lovel.” 

“ What a queer coincidence. Well, I am de- 
lighted to meet you. Where are you staying? 
My boy and I have just come over from Australia, 
and your friend, my dear wife, she is gone, Eachel. 
It was an awful blow ; we won’t speak of it. I 
should like to see more of you. Where shall we 
meet ?” 

Mrs. Lovel gave the address of the very humble 
lodgings which she occupied when in London. 

“ The boy and I will look you up, then, this 
evening. I fear our time now belongs to the 


154 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


lawyer. Good-by — good-by. I am delighted to 

have met you.” 

Mr. Baring prided himself on being an astute 
reader of charatcer, but even he was somewhat 
amazed when these fresh claimants for the Avon* 
syde property occupied quite half an hour of his 
valuable time by asking him numerous and sundry 
questions with regard to that pale and somewhat 
insignificant client of his, Mrs. Lovel. Mr. Baring 
was a cautious man, and he let out as little as he 
could ; but the Lovels, both father and son, were 
furnished with at least a few clews to a very painful 
story. So excited and interested wasBupert Lovel, 
senior, that he even forgot the important business 
that had brought him all the way from Australia, 
and the lawyer had himself gently to divert his 
client’s thoughts into the necessary channel. 

Finally the father and son left the Barings’ office 
a good deal perturbed and excited and w T ith no very 
definite information to guide them. 

“ Look here, Rupert, lad,” said the elder Lovel. 
“ It’s about the saddest thing in all the world, that 
poor soul depriving herself of her children and then 
hoping against hope that the heir won’t turn up. 
Why, of course, lad, you are the heir; not a doubt 
of that. Poor Bachel I and she was your mother’s 
friend.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


155 


“But we won’t set up our claim until we are 
certain about everything — will we, father ?” asked 
young Lovel. “ Did you not hear Mr. Baring say 
that many false heirs had laid claim to Avonsyde ? 
The old ladies want some one who can prove his 
descent, and we have not got all the papers — have 
we, father ?” 

“ ISTo. It is an extraordinary thing about those 
letters being lost, and also the old tankard. But 
they are safe to turn up. Who could have stolen 
them ? Perhaps Gabrielle has already written with 
news of their safety. We might have a cab now to 
the General Post-office. I have no doubt a budget 
of letters awaits me there. Why, Rupert, what are 
you looking so melancholy about? The tankard 
and the letters may even now be found. What’s 
the matter, lad ? It doesn’t do for a hearty young 
chap like you to wear such a dismal face. I tell you 
your claim is as good as established.” 

“But I don’t know that I want it to be estab 
lished,” said young Rupert Lovel. “ It is not nice 
to think of breaking that lady’s heart. I don’t 
know what Gabrielle would say to doing anything 
so cruel to our mother’s friend.” 

“ Tut, lad, what a lot of rubbish you talk ! If you 
are the heir you are, and you can’t shirk your re- 
sponsibility, even if you don’t quite like it. Well, 


156 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


we’ll have a long talk with Rachel and get to th« 
bottom of everything to-night.” 

“And now, Rachel, you must just confide in me and 
make me your friend. Oh, nonsense! Were you 
not my wife’s friend ? and don’t I remember you a 
bit of a bonny lass, as young, quite as young as 
Rupert here ? I have got two young daughters of 
my own, and don’t you suppose I feel for a woman 
who is the mother of girls ? You tell me your whole 
story, Rachel. How is it that you, who have mar- 
ried a Lovel of Avonsyde, should be practically shut 
aw r ay from the house and unrecognized by the fam- 
ily ? When I met you last in Melbourne you looked 
free enough from cares, and your father was fairly 
well off. You were just starting for Europe — don’t 
you remember ? How tell me your history from that 
day forward.” 

“ With the exception of my old servant, Haney, I 
have not given my confidence to any human being 
for years,” answered Mrs. Lovel. Then she paused. 
“Yes, I will trust you, Rupert, and my story can 
be told in a few words ; but first satisfy me about 
one thing. When I was at Mr. Baring’s to-day he 
told me that a fresh claimant had appeared on the 
scene for the Avonsyde property. Is your boy the 
claimant ?” 


TEE LAD Y OF THE FOREST. 


157 


u He is, Rachel. We will go into that presently.” 

Mrs. Lovel sighed. 

“It is so hard not to welcome you,” she said, 
“ but you destroy my hopes. However, listen to 
my tale. I will just tell it to you as briefly as pos- 
sible. Shortly after we came to England my father 
died. He was not well off, as we supposed ; he died 
heavily in debt and I was penniless. I was not suf- 
ficiently highly educated to earn my bread as a 
teacher — as a teacher I should have starved ; but I 
had a taste for millinery and I got employment 
in a milliner’s shop in a good part of London. 
I stayed in that shop for about a year. At the 
end of that time I married Valentine Lovel. We 
had very little money, but we were perfectly 
happy ; and even though Valentine’s people 
refused to acknowledge me, their indifference 
during my dear husband’s lifetime did not take 
an iota from my happiness. Two babies were 
born, both little girls. I know Valentine longed 
for a son, and often said that the birth of a 
boy would most probably lead to a reconciliation 
with his father. No son, however, arrived, and my 
dear husband died of consumption when my eldest 
little girl was five years old. I won’t dwell on his 
death, nor on one or two agonized letters which he 
wrote to his hard old father. He died without one 


158 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


token of reconciliation coming to cheer him from 
Avonsyde ; and when I laid him in the grave I can 
only say that I think heart had grown hard 
against all the world. 

“ I had the children to live for, and it is literally 
true that I had no time to sit down and cry for 
Valentine’s loss. The little girls had a faithful 
nurse ; her name was Nancy White ; she is with me 
still. She took care of my dear, beautiful babies 
while I earned money to put bread in all our 
mouths. 1 had literal^ not a penny in the world 
except what I could earn, for the allowance Valen- 
tine had always received from his father was dis- 
continued at his death. I went back to the shop 
where I had worked as a milliner before my mar- 
riage ; there happened to be a vacancy, and they 
were good enough to take me back. Of course we 
were fearfully poor and lived in wretched lodgings ; 
but however much Nancy and I denied ourselves, 
the children wanted for nothing. They were love- 
ly children— uncommon. Any one could see that 
they had come of a proud old race. The eldest girl 
was called after her father and me ; she was not 
like Valentine in appearance, neither did she re- 
semble me. I am dark, but Bachel’s eyes were of 
the deepest, darkest brown ; her hair was black as 
night and her complexion a deep, glowing rosy 


THE LADT OF THE FOREST. 159 

brown. She was a splendid creature ; so large, so 
noble-looking — not like either of us ; but with a 
look — yes, Rupert, with a look of that boy of 
yours. Kitty resembled her father and was a del- 
icate, lovely, ethereal little creature ; she was as 
fair as Kaehel was dark, but she was not strong, 
and I often feared she inherited some of Valentine's 
delicacy. 

“ For two years I worked for the children and 
supported them. For a year and a half all went 
fairly well. But then I caught cold ; for a time I was 
ill — too ill to work — and my situation at the milli- 
ner’s shop was quickly filled up. I had a watch and a 
few valuable rings and trinkets which Valentine had 
given me. I sold them one by one and we lived on the 
little money they fetched. But the children were 
only half-fed, and one wretched day of a hot and 
stifling July Kitty fainted away quietly in my arms. 
That decided me. I made up my mind on the spot. 
I had a diamond ring, the most valuable of all my 
jewels, and the one I cared for most, for Valentine 
had given it me on our engagement. I took it out 
and sold it. I was fortunate ; I got £10 for it. I 
hurried off at once and bought material, and made 
up with Kancy’s help lovely and picturesque dresses 
for both the children. I believe I had a correct eye 
for color, and I dressed Rachel in rich dark plush 


160 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


with lace, but Kitty was all in white. When the 
clothes were complete I put them on, and Kancy 
kissed the pets and fetched a cab for me, and we 
drove away to Waterloo. I had so little money 
left that I could only afford third-class tickets, but 
I took them to Lyndliurst Road, and when we ar- 
rived there drove straight to Avonsyde. The chil- 
dren were as excited and pleased as possible. They 
knew nothing of any coming parting, and were only 
anxious to see their grandfather and the house 
which their father had so often spoken to them about. 
They were children who had never been scolded ' 
no harsh words had ever been addressed to them, 
consequently they knew nothing of fear. When 
they got into the lovely old place they were wild 
with delight. ‘Kitty,’ said Rachel, ‘let us go and 
find our grandfather.’ Before I could restrain them 
they were off ; but indeed I had no wish to hinder 
them, for I felt sure they would plead their own 
cause best. We had arrived at a critical moment, 
for that was the last day of the old squire’s life. I 
saw his daughters — my sisters-in-law. We had a 
private interview and made terms with one another. 
These were the terms : The ladies of Avonsyde 
would take my darlings and care for them and 
educate them, and be, as they expressed it, ‘ mothers’ 
to them, on condition that I gave them up. I said 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


161 


I would not give them up absolutely. I told the 
ladies quite plainly why I brought them at all. I 
said it was out of no love or respect for the cruel 
grandfather who had disowned them ; it was out of 
no love or respect for the sisters, who did not care 
what became of their brother’s children : it was 
simply and entirely out of my great mother-love for 
the children themselves. I would rather part with 
them than see them starve or suffer. ‘ But,’ I add- 
ed, 6 there are limits even to my self-denial. I will 
not give them up forever. Name the term of years, 
but there must be a limit to the parting.’ 

“Then Miss Katharine, who seemed kinder-heart- 
ed than her sister, gave me one or two compassion- 
ate glances, and even said, 4 Poor thing !’ once or 
twice under her breath. 

“ I did not take the slightest notice of her. I repeat- 
ed again, more distinctly : 4 The parting must have a 
limit ; name a term of years.’ Then the ladies decid- 
ed that on Rachel’s thirteenth birthday — she was 
just seven then — I should come back to Avonsyde, 
and if I so wished and my little girls so wished I 
should have one or both of them back again. The 
ladies told me at the same time of their father’s 
will. They said that a most vigorous search was 
going to be commenced at once for an heir of the 
elder branch. At the same time they both stated 


162 


TEE LAD 7 OF TEE FOREST. 


their conviction that no such heir would be forth- 
coming, for they said that no trace or tidings had 
been heard of Rupert Lovel from the day, nearly 
two hundred years ago, when he left Avonsyde. 
Their conviction was that Rupert had died without 
descendants. In that case, both the ladies said, the 
little girls must inherit the property; and Miss 
Griselda said further that she would try to make 
arrangements with her father to so alter his will 
that if no heir had been found on Rachel’s thir- 
teenth birthday, Valentine’s children should have a 
life-interest in Avonsyde. If, on the other hand, 
the heir was found before that date, they would 
also be provided for, although she did not mention 
how. 

“ These arrangements satisfied me. They were 
the best terms I could make, and I went away 
without bidding either of my children good-by. I 
could bear a great deal, but that parting I could not 
have endured. I went back to London and to 
Nancy, and in a week’s time I heard from Miss 
Lovel. She told me that her father was dead, but 
that the necessary codicil had been added to the 
will, and that if no heir appeared before Rachel’s 
thirteenth birthday my children would have a life- 
interest in the place, and they themselves would be 
bound over to go on with the search. Miss Lovel 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


163 


further added that in any case the children should 
be educated and cared for in the best possible 
manner. 

“Those were the entire contents of her letter. 
She sent me no message from my darlings, and 
from that hour to this I have never heard from her. 
From that hour, too, my terrible, terrible heart- 
hunger began. No one knows what I suffered, 
what I suffer for want of the children. Were the 
sacrifice to be made again, I don’t think I could go 
through it, and yet God only knows. For two or 
three years I made a very scanty livelihood ; then I 
was fortunate enough to invent a certain showy- 
looking lace. I could make my own patterns and 
do it very quickly by hand. To my great surprise 
it took, and from that hour I have had more orders 
than I can execute. My wants are very few and I 
have even saved money : I have over £400 put 
away. My dream of dreams is to have my children 
back with me — that is my selfish dream. Of course 
it will be best for them to be rich and to have the 
old place, but in any case I will not consent to so 
absolute a separation as now exists between us. A 
year ago a gentleman and his wife w T ho had been 
kind to me, although they knew nothing of my 
story, asked me if I would like to take charge of a 
little cottage of theirs in the New Forest. It is a 


164 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


tiny place, apparently lost in underwood and 
bracken, which they themselves occupy for a fort- 
night or so in the course of the year. The tempta- 
tion was too great. I accepted the offer, and since 
then I have lived, so to speak, on the threshold of 
the children’s home. One day I saw Rachel. Well, 
I must not dwell on that. I did not speak to her. 
I fled from her, although she is my first-born child. 
It is now December. May will come by and by, 
and then the greatness of my trouble will be over.” 

Mrs. Lovel paused. The Australians, father and 
son, had listened with breathless interest to her 
words. 

“ I don’t want to take the property from your 
children,” said young Rupert, with passion. “ After 
what you have said and suffered, I hate to be heir 
of Avonsyde.” 

“ I forgot to mention,” continued Mrs. Lovel, 
“ that a little boy is now at Avonsyde of the name 
of Philip who is supposed to be the real heir. He 
is a little pale-faced boy with beautiful eyes and a 
very winning manner, and it is reported that the 
old ladies have both lost their hearts to him. I can- 
not say that I think he looks strong, but he is a 
dear little boy.” 

“ That must bo our Phil,” said young Rupert, 
speaking with great interest. “ Of course, father 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


165 


that explains his queer letter to me. Poor dear 
little Phil!” 

“Just like his mother,” growled the elder Lovel. 
“ A mischievous, interfering, muddle-headed woman, 
sure to put her foot in a thing and safe to make 
mischief. Forgive me, Rachel, but I feel strongly 
about this. Has the boy got a mother with him ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ You are right then, Rupert. It is your Cousin 
Phil. Poor little chap! he has no voice in the mat- 
ter, I am sure. What a meddlesome woman that 
mother of his is! Well, Rachel, my boy and I will 
say good-night now. These revelations have pained 
and bewildered me. I must sleep over all this 
news. Don’t leave London until you hear from me. 
I think you may trust me, and — God bless you !” 


166 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


CHAPTER XV. 

WAS HE ACTING? 

“ I can’t help it, Kitty ; you really must not ask 
me. I’m a very much puzzled boy. I’m — I’m — 
Kitty, did you ever have to pull yourself up short 
just when you wanted to say something most inter- 
esting? I’m always pulling myself up short, and 
I’m dreadfully, dreadfully tired of it.” 

“ It must be something like giving a sudden jerk 
to one of our ponies,” said Kitty. “ I know — it 
must be a horrid feeling. Does it set your teeth on 
edge, Phil, and do you quite tremble with im- 
patience ?” 

“ Yes,” said Phil, throwing himself full length on 
the floor of the old armory, where he and Kitty had 
ensconced themselves on a pouring wet day earlv in 
the month of February. “Yes, Kitty, if feeling 
very unpleasant all over means setting your teeth 
on edge, I do know it. I’m a little boy with lots of 
secrets, and I never can tell them, not to you nor to 
anybody at Avonsyde— no, not to anybody. I’ll get 
accustomed to it in time, but I don’t like it, for 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


167 


naturally I’m the kind of boy who can’t keep a 
secret.’ 

“ What a horrid man you’ll grow up !” said Kitty, 
eying her cousin with marked disapproval. “You’ll 
be so reserved and cross-grained and disagreeable. 
You’ll have been pulled up short so often that you’ll 
look jerky. Oh, dear me, Phil, I wouldn’t be you 
for a great deal !” 

“ I wouldn’t be myself if I could help it,” said 
Phil, with a sigh which he tried hard to smother. 
“ Oh, I say, Kitty -cat, will you coax Aunt Grizel to 
take us into Southampton soon ? I am quite certain 
my letter must be waiting for me. You don’t know, 
Kitty, you can’t possibly guess what a letter from 
his dearest friend means to a rather lonely kind of 
boy like me.” 

“You had better ask Aunt Grizel yourself,” an- 
swered Kitty, with a little pout and a little frown. 
“ She’s so fond of you, Phil, that she’ll do it. She’ll 
take you to Southampton if you coax her and if you 
put on that funny kind of sad look in your eyes. 
It’s the kind of look our spaniel puts on, and I never 
can say ‘JSTo ’ to him when he has it. I don’t know 
how you do it, Phil, nor why you do it ; but you 
have a very sorry look in your eyes when you like. 
Is it because you’re always and always missing your 
dearest friend ?” 


168 THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 

“It’s partly that,” answered Phil. “Oh, you 
don’t know what he’s like, Kitty! He’s most 
splendid. He has got such a grand figure, and he 
walks in such a manly way, and his eyes are as dark 
and wonderful-looking as Kachel’s, and — and — oh, 
Kitty, was I telling you anything ? Please forget 
that I said anything at all ; please don’t remember 
on any account whatever that I have got a dearest 
friend !” 

“ I think you are perfectly horrid !” said Kitty, 
stamping her foot. “ Just the minute we begin 
talking about anything interesting you give one of 
those jerks, just as if you had a cruel rider on your 
back. I can’t think what it all means. If you have 
a dearest friend, there’s no harm in it ; and if you 
had a Betty to take care of you, there’s no harm in 
that ; and if you lived in a cottage in a plantation, 
that isn’t a sin ; and if you did go into the forest to 
meet the lady, and you didn’t meet her, although 
you were nearly swallowed up by a bog, why — why 
— what’s the matter, Phil ? How white you are !” 

“ Nothing, ” said Phil, suddenly pressing his face 
down on the cushion against which he was lying — 

“nothing — Kit — I ” He uttered one or two 

groans. “ Fetch me a little water, please !” 

The child’s face had suddenly become livid. He 
clinched his hands and pressed them againt his 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


169 


temples, and buried that poor little drawn, piteous 
face further and deeper into the soft cushion. At 
last the paroxysm of pain passed ; he panted, raised 
himself slowly, and struggled to his feet. 

“Kitty!” 

But Kitty was gone. Terrified, the little girl ran 
through the hall. The first person she met was 
Mrs. Lovel, who, dressed gracefully in a soft black 
silk, trimmed with lace, was walking languidly in 
the direction of the great drawing-room. 

“ You had better come !” said Kitty, rushing up 
to her and seizing her hand. “ Phil is very dread- 
fully ill. I think Phil will die. He’s in the ar- 
mory. Come at once !” 

Without waiting for the lady’s answer, little Kit- 
ty turned on her heel and flew back the way she had 
come. Phil had scarcely time to struggle to his feet, 
scarcely time to notice her absence, before she was 
back again at his side. Putting her arms around his 
neck, she covered his face with passionate kisses. 

“ Phil, Phil, I was so frightened about you ! Are 
you better ? Do say you are better. Oh, I love you 
so much, and I won’t be jealous, even if you have 
got a dearest friend !” 

Phil could stand, but the sudden attack he had 
passed through was so sharp that words could 
scarcely come tc his lips. Kitty’s embrace almost 


170 


TEE LAD Y OF THE FOREST. 


overpowered him. but he was so innately unselfish 
that he would not struggle to free himself, fearing 
to pain her. 

His mother’s step was heard approaching. He 
made a great effort to stand upright and formed his 
little lips into a voiceless whistle. 

“ Why, Phil, you have been overtiring yourself,” 
said Mrs. Lovel. “ Oh, Kitty, how you have exag- 
gerated ! Phil does not look at all bad. I suppose 
you were both romping, and never ceased until you 
lost your breath ; or you were having one of your 
pretense games, and Phil thought he would frighten 
you by making out he was ill. Ah, Phil, Phil, what 
an actor you are ! How, my dear boy, I want you 
to come up to your bedroom with me. I want to 
consult you about one or two matters. Fancy, Kitty, 
a mother consulting her little boy ! Ought not 
Phil to be proud ? But he is really such a strong, 
brave little man that I cannot help leaning on him. 
It was really unkind of you to pretend that time, 
Phil, and to give little Kitty such a fright.” 

Phil’s beautiful brown eyes were raised to his 
mother’s face ; then they glanced at Kitty ; then a 
smile — a very sorry smile Kitty considered it — 
filled them, and giving his little thin hand to his 
mother, he walked out of the armory by her side. 

Kitty lingered for a moment in the room which 


TEE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


171 


her companion had deserted ; then she dashed 
away across the brightly lit hall, through several 
cozy and cheery apartments, until she came to a 
room brilliant with firelight and lamplight, where 
Rachel lay at her ease in a deep arm-chair with a 
fairy story open on her knee. 

“ Phil is the best actor in all the world, Rachel !” 
she exclaimed. “ He turned as white as a sheet just 
now. He turned gray, and he groaned most 
awfully, and he wouldn’t speak, and I thought 
he was dying, and I flew for some one, and I found 
Mrs. Lovel, and she came back to Phil, and she 
laughed, and said there was nothing the matter, and 
that Phil was only acting. Isn’t it wonderful, 
Rachel, that Phil can turn pale when he likes, and 
groan in such a terrible way? Oh, it made me 
shiver to see him ! I do hope he won’t act being 
ill again.” 

“ He didn’t act,” said Rachel in a contemptuous 
voice; “that’s what his mother said. I wouldn’t 
have her for a mother for a great deal. I’d rather 
have no mother. Poor little Phil didn’t act. Don’t 
talk nonsense, Kitty.” 

“Then if he didn’t act he must be very ill,” said 
Kitty. Then, her blue eyes filling with tears, she 
added : “ I do love him so ! I love him even though 
he has a dearest friend.” 


172 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Rachel stretched out her hand and drew Kitty 
into a corner of her own luxurious chair. She had 
not seen Phil, and Kitty’s account of him scarcely 
made her uneasy. 

“ Even if he was a little ill, he’s all right now,” 
she said. “ Stay with me, Kitty-cat ; I scarcely 
ever see you. I think Phil is quite your dearest 
friend.” 

“Quite,” answered Kitty solemnly. “ I love him 
better than any one, except you, Rachel ; only I 
do wish — yes, I do — that he had not so many 
secrets.” 

“ He never told you what happened to him that 
day in the forest, did he, Kitty ?” 

“ Oh, no ; he pulled himself up short. He was 
often going to, but he always pulled himself up. 
What a dreadfully jerky man he’ll grow up, 
Rachel.” 

“ He never quite told you ?” continued Rachel. 
“Well, I don’t want him to tell me, for I know.” 

“ Rachel !” 

“ Yes, I know all about it. Pm going to see him 
presently, and Pll tell him that I know his secret. 
Now, Kitt} r , you need not stare at me, for Pm never 
going to breathe it to any one except to Phil him- 
self. There, Kit, the dressing-gong has sounded ; 
we must go and get ready for supper.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


173 


Meanwhile Mrs. Lovel, taking Phil’s hand, had 
led him out of the armory and to the foot of the 
winding stone stairs. Once there she paused. The 
look of placid indifference left her face ; she dropped 
the smiling mask she had worn in Kitty’s presence, 
and stooping down lifted the boy into her arms and 
carried him tenderly up the winding stairs, never 
pausing nor faltering nor groaning under his weight. 
When they reached the tower bedroom she laid him 
on his little bed, and going to a cupboard in the 
wall unlocked it and took from thence a small 
bottle ; she poured a few drops from the bottle into 
a spoon and put the restorative between the boy’s 
blue lips. He swallowed it eagerly, smiled, shook 
himself, and sat up in bed. 

“ Thank you, mother. I am much better now,” 
he said affectionately. 

Mrs. Lovel locked the door, stirred the fire in the 
old-fashioned grate into a cheerful blaze, lit two or 
three candles, drew the heavy curtains across the 
windows, and then dragging a deep arm-chair op- 
posite the glowing hearth, she lifted Phil again into 
her arms, and sitting down in the comfortable seat, 
rocked him passionately to her breast. 

“ My boy, my boy, was it very bad, very awful ?” 

“Yes, mother; but it’s all right now.” 

“ Did Kitty hear you groan, Phil 2” 


174 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“Yes, mother; but not the loudest groans, for I 
buried my head in the cushion. I’m all right now, 
mother. I can go down again in a minute or two.” 

“ No, Phil, you shan’t go down to-night. I’ll 
manage it with the old ladies; and Phil, darling, 
darling, we have almost won ; you won’t have to 
pretend anything much longer. On the 5th of May, 
on Rachel’s birthday, you are to be proclaimed the 
heir. This is the middle of February ; you have 
only a little more than two months to keep it all up, 
Phil.” 

“ Oh, yes, mother, it’s very difficult, and the pain 
in my side gets worse, and I don’t want it, and I’d 
rather Rupert had it; but never mind, mammy, } t ou 
shan’t starve.” 

He stroked his mother’s cheek with his little 
hand, and she rocked him in her arms in an ecstasy 
of love and fear and longing. At that moment she 
loved the boy better than the gold. She would 
have given up all dreams of ease and comfort for 
herself if she could have secured real health for that 
most precious little life. 

“ Mother,” said Phil, “ I do want to go to South- 
ampton so badly.” 

“ What for, dearest ?” 

“ Because I’m expecting a letter, mother, from 
Rupert. No, no, don’t frown ! I can’t bear to see 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 175 

you frown. I didn’t tell him anything, but I wrote 
to him, and I asked him to send his answer to the 
post-office at Southampton, and it must be waiting 
there now ; yes, it must, and I do want to fetch it 
so dreadfully. Can you manage that I shall go, 
mother?” 

“ I’ll go for it myself, dear ; I’ll go to-morrow. 
There — doesn’t mother love her boy? Yes, I’ll 
go for the letter to Southampton to-morrow. 
There’s the supper-gong, Phil. I must go down, 
but you shan’t. I’ll bring you up something nice to 
eat presently.” 

“ Oh, no, please ; I couldn’t eat. Just let me lie 
on my bed quite still without talking. Mother, my 
darling mother, how can I thank you for promising 
to fetch Rupert’s letter ?” 

Mrs. Lovel laid Phil back on his bed, covered him 
up warmly, and softly unlocking the door went 
downstairs. 

She had got a shock, a greater shock than she 
cared to own ; but when she entered the long, low, 
old-fashioned dining-hall where Miss Griselda and 
Miss Katharine and the two little girls awaited her, 
her face was smiling and careless as usual. The 
poor, weak-minded, and bewildered woman had re- 
sumed her mask, and no one knew with what an 
aching heart she sat down to her luxurious meal. 


176 


THE LADY OF THE F0RES1. 


“ Is Phil still pretending to be very, very dread* 
fully ill?” called out Kitty across the table. 

Miss Griselda started at Kitty’s words, looked 
anxiously at Mrs. Lovel and at a vacant chair, and 
spoke. 

“ Is your boy not well? Is he not coming to 
supper ?” she inquired. 

u Phil strained himself a little,” answered Mrs. 
Lovel, “ and he had quite a sharp pain in his side — 
only muscular, I assure you, dear Miss Griselda ; 
nothing to make one the least bit uneasy, but I 
thought it better to keep him upstairs. He is going 
to bed early and won't come down again to-night. 
May I take him up a little supper presently ?” 

“ Poor boy ! he must be ravenously hungry,” said 
Miss Griselda in a careless tone. “Strained his 
side ? Dear, dear ! children are always hurting 
themselves. I wanted him to go with me early to- 
morrow to collect mosses. I intend to drive the 
'light cart myself into the forest, and I meant to 
take Phil and Kitty with me. Phil is so clever at 
finding them.” 

“ Oh, he’s very strong. He’ll be quite ready to 
go with you, Miss Griselda,” answered the little 
boy's mother ; but she bent her head as she spoke, 
and no one saw how pale her face was. 

The meal proceeded somewhat drearily. Kitty 


IRE LADY OF THE FOREST. 177 

was out of spirits at the loss of her favorite com- 
panion ; Rachel’s little face looked scarcely child- 
ish, so intensely watchful was its expression ; Mrs. 
Lovel wore her smiling mask ; and the two old 
ladies alone were perfectly tranquil and indifferent. 

“May I take Phil up some supper?” suddenly 
asked Rachel. 

Mrs. Lovel suppressed a quick sigh, sat down 
again in her seat, for she was just rising to go back 
to Phil, and almost ran her nails into her hands 
under the table in her efforts to keep down all 
symptoms of impatience. 

“ Thank you, dear,” said Miss Griselda gratefully. 
“ If you go up to Phil his mother need not trouble 
herself about him until bedtime. We will adjourn 
to the drawing-room, if you please, Mrs. Lovel. I 
am anxious to have another lesson in that new kind 
of crochet. Katharine, will you give Rachel some 
supper to take up to Phil ? — plenty of supper, please, 
dear ; he’s a hearty boy and ought to have abun- 
dance to eat.” 

Miss Katharine smiled, cut a generous slice of 
cold roast beef, and piled two mince-pies and a 
cheese-cake on another plate. When she had added 
to these a large glass of cold milk and some bread- 
and-butter, she gave the tray to Rachel, and bidding 
her be careful not to spill her load, took Kitty’s 
hand and went with her into the drawing-room. 


178 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Each el carried her tray carefully as far as the foot 
of the winding stairs ; then looking eagerly up and 
down and to right and left, she suddenly wheeled 
round and marched off through many underground 
and badly lit passages, until she found herself in the 
neighborhood of the great old-fashioned kitchen. 
Here she was met not by the cook, but by Mrs. New- 
bolt, the lady’s-maid. 

“ Oh, Newbolt, you’ll do what I want. Phil is 
ill, and his mother doesn’t want any one to know 
about it. Take all this horrid mess away and give 
me some strong, strong, beautiful beef tea and a nice 
little piece of toast. I’ll wait here, and you won’t 
be long, will you, dear Newbolt ?” 

Newbolt loved* Phil and detested his mother. 
With a sudden snort she caught up Eachel’s tray, 
and returned presently with a tempting little meal 
suited to an invalid. 

“ If the child is ill I’ll come up with you to see 
him, Miss Kachel,” she said. 

Phil was lying on his back ; his eyes were shut ; 
his face looked very pinched and blue. True, how- 
ever, to the little Spartan that he was, when he heard 
Rachel’s step he started up and smiled and wel- 
comed her in a small but very cheery voice. 

“ Thank you for coming to see me,” he said, “ but 
I didn’t want any supper ; I told mother so. Oh, 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


179 


what is that — white soup? I do like white soup. 
And oysters? Yes, I can eat two or three oysters. 
How very kind you are, Rachel. I begin to feel 
quite hungry, that supper looks so nice.” 

Eachel carried the tempting little tray herself, 
but behind her came Hewbolt, whom Phil now per- 
ceived for the first time. 

“Have you come up to see me, Newbolt?” he 
said. “ But I am not at all ill. I happened to get 
tired, and mother said I must rest here.” 

“ The best place for a tired little boy to rest is in 
his bed, not on it,” said Newbolt. “ If you please, 
Master Phil, I am going to put you into bed, and 
then Miss Rachel shall feed you with this nice sup- 
per. Oh, yes, sir, we know you’re not the least bit 
ill — oh, no, not the least bit in the world ; but we 
are going to treat you as if you were, all the same.” 

Phil smiled and looked up at Newbolt as if he 
would read her innermost thoughts. He was only 
too glad to accept her kind services, and quite 
sighed with relief when she laid him comfortably 
on his pillows. Hewbolt wrapped a little red dress- 
ing-jacket over his shoulders, and then poking the 
fire vigorously and seeing that the queer old tower 
room looked as cheerful as possible, she left the two 
children together. Rachel and Phil made very 
merry over his supper, and Phil almost forgot that 


180 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


he had been feeling one of the most forsaken and 
miserable little boys in the world half an hour ago. 
Rachel had developed quite a nice little amount of 
tact, and she by no means worried Phil with ques- 
tions as to whether his illness was real or feigned. 
But when he really smiled, and the color came back 
to his cheeks, and his laugh sounded strong and 
merry once more, she could not help saying abrupt- 

ly: 

“Phil, I have been wanting to see you by your- 
self for some time. I cannot tell Kitty, for Kitty 
is not to know ; but, Phil, what happened to you 
that day in the forest is no secret to me.” 

Phil opened his eyes very wide. 

“ What do you mean, Rachel?” he asked. “No, 
Rachel, you cannot guess it, for I never, never even 
whispered about that secret.” 

Rachel’s face had turned quite pale and her voice 
was trembling. 

“Shall I whisper it back to you now?” she said. 
“Shall I tell you where you went? You did not 
meet the myth lady — I begin really to be almost 
sure she is only a myth lady — but you did meet a 
lady. She was in gray and she had the saddest face 
in the world ; and oh, Phil, she took you home — she 
took you home !” 

“ Why, Rachel,” said little Phil again, “ you look 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


181 


just as if you were going to cry. How is it you 
found all this out ? And why does it make you so 
sorrowful ?” 

“Oh, I want her,” said Rachel, trembling and 
half-sobbing. “I want her so badly. I long for 
her more than anything. I saw her once and I 
have not been quite happy since. She never took 
me inside her house. Phil, I am jealous of you. 
Phil, I want to hear all about her.” 

“ Pm so glad you know,” said Phil in cheerful 
tones. “ I was told not to tell. I was told to keep 
it another secret ; but if you found it out, or rather 
if you always knew about it, why, of course you 
and I can talk together about her. You don’t 
know how nice it will be to me to be able to talk 
to you about one of my secrets. My dearest friend 
secret, and the Betty secret, and the little house at 
the back of the garden secret I must never, never 
speak of ; and the secret about my being a very, 
very strong boy — that I mustn’t talk about ; but you 
and I can chatter about the lady of the forest, 
Rachel. Oh, what a comfort it is 1” 

“It will be a great comfort to me too,” answered 
Rachel. “Let’s begin at once. Tell me every 
single thing about her. What did she wear? How 
did she speak ? Had she my ring on her finger?” 

Phil smiled and launched forth into a long and 


182 


TEE LADT OF TEE FOREST. 


minute narrative. Not a single detail would sharp 
little Rachel allow him to omit. Whenever his 
memory was in danger of flagging she prodded it 
with vehemence, until at last even her most 
rapacious longing was satisfied. When Phil had 
quite exhausted all his narrative she breathed a deep 
sigh and said again : 

“ I envy you, Phil. You have been inside her 
house and she has kissed you.” 

“ She was a very nice and kind lady,” concluded 
Phil, “ and she was very good to me ; but all the 
same, Rachel, I would rather see that other lady — 
the lady in green with the lovely face who comes 
with a gift.” 

“ Perhaps she’s only a myth,” said Rachel. 

“ Please, Rachel, don’t say so. I want the bag 
of gold so badly.” 

Rachel stared and laughed. 

“ I never thought you were greedy, Phil,” she 
said. “I cannot think what a little boy like you 
can want with a bag of gold.” 

“ That’s my secret,” said Phil, half-closing his 
eyes and again turning very pale. “ A great many 
people would be happier if I had that bag of gold. 
Rachel,” he added, “ I do trust I may one day see 
the lady. I went to look for her that day in the 
forest ; I went miles and miles to find her, but I 
didn’t, and I was nearly drowned in a bos*.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 183 

“ It is not a bit necessary to go into the forest to 
see her,” answered Rachel ; “ she might come to 
you here, in this very room. You know this is the 
very oldest part of the house. This part of Avon- 
syde is quite steeped in romance, and I dare say the 
lady has been here once or twice — that is, of course, 
if she isn’t a myth. There is an old diary of one of 
our ancestors in the library, and I have coaxed 
Aunt Griselda now and then to let me read in it. 
One day I read an account of the lady ; it was then 
I found out about her green dress and her lovely 
face. The diary said she was ‘ passing fair,’ and 
those who looked on her were beautiful ever after- 
ward. She showed herself but seldom, but would 
come now and then for a brief half-minute of time 
to the fairest and the best and to those who were 
to die young.” 

“ Rachel,” said little Phil, “ just before you came 
up that time I was lying with my eyes shut, and I 
was thinking of the beautiful lady, and I almost 
thought I saw her. I should be happy if she came 
to me.” 


184 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

LOST. 

Phil’s mother was in every sense a weak woman. 
She was not strong enough to be either very good 
or very bad ; she had a certain amount of daring, 
but she had not sufficient courage to dare with suc- 
cess. She had a good deal of the stubbornness 
which sometimes accompanies weak characters, and 
when she deliberately set her heart on any given 
thing, she could be even cruel in her endeavors to 
bring this thing to pass. Her husband and the elder 
Rupert Lovel, of Belmont, near Melbourne, were 
brothers. Both strong and brave men, they had 
married differently. Rupert’s wife had in all par- 
ticulars been a helpmeet to him ; she had brought 
up his children to be brave and strong and honor- 
able. She suffered much, for she was a confirmed 
invalid for many years before her death ; but her 
spirit was so strong, so sweet, so noble, that not 
only her husband and children, but outsiders — all, 
in fact, who knew her — leaned on her, asked eagerly 
for her counsel, and were invariably the better when 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


185 


they followed her advice. Philip Lovel’s wife was 
not a helpmeet to him ; she was weak, exacting, 
jealous, and extravagant. She was the kind of 
woman whom a strong man out of his very pity 
would be good to, would pet and humor even more 
than was good for her. Philip was killed suddenly 
in a railway accident, and his widow was left very 
desolate and very poor. Her boy was then five 
years old — a precocious little creature, who from 
the moment of his father’s death took upon himself 
the no light office of being his mother’s comforter. 
He had a curious way even from the very first of 
putting himself aside and considering her. Without 
being told, he would stop his noisy games at her ap- 
proach and sit for an hour at a time with his little 
hand clasped in hers, while he leaned his soft cheek 
against her gown and was happy in the knowledge 
that he afforded her consolation. To see him thus 
one would have supposed him almost deficient in 
manly attributes ; but this was not so. His gentle- 
ness and consideration came of his strength ; the 
child was as strong in mental fiber as the mother 
was weak. In the company of his brave Cousin 
Eupert no merrier or gayer little fellow could have 
been found. His courage and powers of endurance 
were simply marvelous. Poor little Phil ! that 
courageous spirit of his was to be tested in no easy 


186 


TEE LAD Y OF TEE FOREST. 


school. Soon after his sixth birthday those mys- 
terious attacks of pain came on which the doctor in 
Melbourne, without assigning any special cause for 
their occurrence, briefly spoke of as dangerous. 
Phil was eight years old when his mother’s great 
temptation came to her. She saw an English news- 
paper which contained the advertisement for the 
Avonsyde heir. Her husband had often spoken to 
her about the old family place in the home country. 
She had loved to listen to his tales, handed down to 
him orally from his ancestors. She had sighed, and 
groaned too, over his narratives, and had said openly 
that to be mistress of such an old ancestral home 
was her ideal of paradise. Philip, a busy and ac- 
tive man, spent no time over vain regrets ; practi- 
cally he and his elder brother, Rupert, forgot the 
existence of the English home. 

Rupert had made a comfortable fortune for him- 
self in the land of his adoption, and Philip too 
would have been rich some day if he had lived. 
Mrs. Lovel, a discontented widow, saw the tempt- 
ing advertisement, and quickly and desperately she 
made her plans. Her little son was undoubtedly a 
lineal descendant of the disinherited Rupert Lovel, 
but also, and alas ! he was not strong. In body at 
least he was a fragile and most delicate boy. Mrs. 
Lovel knew that if the ladies of Avonsyde once saw 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


187 


the beautiful and brave young Rupert, Phil’s chance 
would be nowhere. She trusted that Rupert Lovel 
the elder would not see the advertisement. She 
sold her little cottage, realized all the money she 
could, and without telling any one of her plans, 
started with her boy for England. Before she left 
she did one thing more : she made a secret visit to 
Belmont, and under the pretext of wishing to see 
her sister in-law, sat with her while she slept, and 
during that sleep managed to abstract from the cup- 
board behind her bed the old silver tankard and a 
packet of valuable letters. These letters gave the 
necessary evidence as to the genuineness of the 
boy’s descent and the tankard spoke for itself. 

Mrs. Lovel started for England, and during her 
long voyage she taught Phil his lesson. He was to 
forget the past and he was to do his very utmost to 
appear a strong boy. She arrived at Avonsyde, 
was kindly welcomed, and day after day, month 
after month, her hopes grew great and her fears 
little. Phil played his part to perfection — so his 
mother said — not recognizing the fact that it was 
something in the boy himself, something quite be- 
yond and apart from his physical strength, which 
threw a sweet glamour over those who were with 
him, causing them to forget the plainness of his face 
and see only the wonderful beauty of the soul which 


188 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


looked through the lovely eyes, causing them to 
cease to notice how fragile was the little frame 
which yet was so lithe and active, causing them 
never to observe how tired those small feet grew, 
and yet how willingly they ran in grateful and 
affectionate service for each and all. Cold-hearted, 
cold-natured Miss Grisekla was touched and sof- 
tened as she had never been before by any mortal. 
She scarcely cared to have the boy out of her sight ; 
she petted him much ; she loved him well. 

Mrs. Lovel hoped and longed. If once Rachel’s 
birthday could be passed, all would be well. When 
the ladies appointed Phil as their heir, he was their 
heir forever. Surely nothing would occur to inter- 
fere with her darling projects during the short period 
which must elapse between the present time and 
that eventful day two months hence. 

As Mrs. Lovel grew more hopeful her manner 
lost much of its nervous affectation. In no society 
could she appear as a well-educated and well-read 
woman, but on the surface she was extremely good- 
natured, and in one particular she won on the old 
ladies of Avonsvde. She was practiced in all the 
small arts of fancy needlework. She could knit ; 
she could crochet ; she could tat ; she could em- 
broider conventional flowers in crewels. The 
Misses Lovel detested crewel-work, but Miss Kath- 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


189 


arine was very fond of knitting and Miss Griselda 
affected to tolerate crochet. Each night, as the three 
ladies sat in the smaller of the large drawing-rooms, 
the crochet and the knitting came into play ; and 
when Mrs. Lovel ventured to instruct in new stitches 
and new patterns, she found favor in the eyes of the 
two old ladies. 

On the night of PhiFs illness the poor woman sat 
down with an inward groan to give Miss Griselda 
her usual evening lesson. No one knew how her 
heart beat ; no one knew how her pulse throbbed 
nor how wild were the fresh fears which were 
awakened within her. Suppose, after all, Phil 
could not keep up that semblance of strength to the 
end ! Suppose an attack similar to the one he had 
gone through to-day should come on in Miss Gri- 
selda’s presence. Then, indeed, all would be lost. 
And suppose — suppose that other thing happened : 
suppose Rupert Lovel with his brave young son 
should arrive at Avonsyde before the 5th of May. 
Mrs. Lovel could have torn her hair when Phil so 
quietly told her that he had written to young 
Rupert, and that even now a reply might be 
waiting for him at Southampton. She knew well 
that Rupert’s father would remember how near 
Avonsyde was to Southampton. If the boy hap- 
pened to show Phil’s letter to his father, all would 


190 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


be lost. Mrs. Lovel felt that she could not rest 
until she went to Southampton and secured the 
reply which might be waiting for Phil at the post- 
office. These anxious thoughts made her distraite ; 
and bravely as she wore her mask, one or two sighs 
did escape from her anxious breast. 

“ How silent you are !” suddenly exclaimed Miss 
Griselda in a snappish tone. “ I have asked you the 
same question three times ! Am I to crochet 
twelve or thirteen stitches of chain ? Oh, you need 
not trouble to answer ; I am putting away my work 
now. The pattern is not working out at all prop- 
erly. Perhaps you are anxious about Phil. If so, 
pray do not let me detain you. It is a great mistake 
to coddle children, but I suppose a mother’s foolish- 
ness must be excused.” 

“ You quite mistake. I am not the least anx- 
ious,” answered poor Mrs. Lovel, who was in reality 
on thorns. u I am so very sorry that I did not hear 
your question, dear Miss Griselda. The fact is, I 
have been wondering if I might ask a little favor. 
I should like to go to Southampton to-morrow 
morning. Can you spare the carriage to send me 
to the railway station ?” 

Miss Griselda stared. 

“ Can l spare the carriage?” she repeated 
haughtily. “I was not aware that you were a 


THE LAD Y OF THE FOREST 


191 


prisoner at Avonsyde, Mrs. Lovel. Of course you 
can go in or out as you please. Pray send your own 
orders to the stables.” 

Mrs. Lovel was profuse in her thanks, Miss 
Griselda as cross and ungracious as possible. The 
fact was the old lady was longing to pay Phil a visit 
in his room, and would have done so had she not 
feared his mother accompanying her. The poor 
unhappy mother would have given worlds to be 
with her boy, but dreaded Miss Griselda’s com- 
ments. 

The next day, early, Mrs. Lovel went to South- 
ampton, executed a few commissions in order 
to give color to her expedition, fetched Phil’s letter 
from the post-office, and returned home, burning 
with impatience to read its contents. She would 
not have scrupled to open the envelope had not 
Phil implored of her, just when she was starting on 
her journey, to let him have this pleasure himself. 

Phil was much as usual the next morning, and 
he and Aunt Grizel and Kitty had gone off on an 
expedition into the forest to look for mosses. When 
Mrs. Lovel got back the little party had not re- 
turned. She had still to control her impatience, 
and after taking a hurried lunch went up to her 
tower bedroom. She laid the letter with the 
Australian postmark on the writing-table and paced 


192 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


in a fever of anxiety up and down the small room. 
Suddenly it occurred to her to beguile the slow mo- 
ments with some occupation. Why should she not 
open that trunk which contained old reminiscences 
and one or two articles of value? Why should she 
not open it and put its contents in order, and take 
out the precious tankard and clean it ? This task 
would give her occupation and cause the weary 
moments to pass quickly. 

She stooped down and was startled to find that 
the key was in the lock. How very, very stupid of 
her to have left it there ! When had she been guilty 
of so dangerous a piece of negligence? With 
trembling fingers she raised the lid of the trunk and 
began to search for the tankard. Of course she 
could not find it. Suddenly she heard footsteps ap- 
proaching and half-rose in an expectant attitude. 
Her little son came quickly in. 

‘•'Oh, mother, have you brought my letter?” 

“ Yes ; it is on the table. Phil, there was a silver 
tankard in this trunk, and I can’t find it.” 

Phil had flown to his letter and was opening it 
eagerly. 

“ Phil, do you hear me ? I can't find the silver 
tankard.” 

He went up at once to his mother. 

“I beg your pardon, mother. I am so dying to 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


193 


see what Kupert says ! A silver tankard ? Oh, 
yes ; that old one they always had at Belmont ; the 
one Gabrielle was so proud of. I did not know 
they had given it to you. Oh, mother, I am sorry. 
Do you know, I never thought of it until this 
minute.” 

“ Thought of what ? Speak, child ; don’t keep me 
on thorns !” 

“ I found it, mother, and I took it out with me 
that day when I was nearly drowned in the bog. I 
had it with me that day.” 

“ Well, boy, well ! Where is it now ?” 

“ I don’t know. I don’t remember a single thing 
about it. I think I had it with me in the bog. I’m 
almost sure I had, but I can’t quite recollect. 
Perhaps I dropped it in the bog. Mother, what is 
the matter ?” 

“ Nothing, child. I could shake you, but I won’t. 
This is terrible news. There ! read your letter.” 

“ Mother darling, let us read it together. Mother, 
I didn’t know it was wrong. Kiss me, mammy, 
and don’t look so white. Oh ! I am almost too 
happy. Mother, Rupert says when I am reading 
this he will be in England !” 

“ Then we are lost !” said Mrs. Lovel, pushing the 
slight little figure away from her. “ No, no, I 
scarcely love you at this moment. Don’t attempt 
to kiss me. We are utterly lost l” 


194 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST, 


CHAPTER XVII. 

LOOKING FOR THE TANKARD. 

When Mrs. Lovel spoke to Phil with such passion 
and bitterness, and when, abruptly leaving the 
tower bedroom and slamming the door violently 
after her, the little boy found himself alone, he was 
conscious of a curious half-stunned feeling. His 
mother had said that she scarcely loved him. All 
his small life he had done everything for his 
mother ; he had subdued himself for her sake ; he 
had crushed down his love and his hope and his 
longing just to help her. What did he care for 
wealth, or for a grand place, or for anything in all 
the wide world, in comparison with the sweetness 
of Rupert’s smile, in comparison with the old happy 
days in Belmont and of the old life, when he might 
be a boy with aches and pains if he liked, when he 
need not pretend to be possessed of the robust 
health which he never felt, when he need carry no 
wearisome secrets about with him ? His mother had 
said, u I scarcely love you, Phil,” and she had gone 
away angry ; she had gone away with defiance in 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


195 


her look and manner, and yet with despair in her 
heart. Phil had guessed that she was despairing, 
for he knew her well, and this knowledge soon made 
his brief anger take the form of pity. 

“ Poor mother ! poor darling mother !” he mur- 
mured. “ I did not know she would mind my taking 
out the old Belmont tankard. I am awfull3 r sorry. 
I suppose it was quite careless of me. I did not 
know that mother cared for the tankard ; but I sup- 
pose Gabrielle must have given it to her, and I 
suppose she must love Gabrielle a little. That is 
nice of her ; that is very nice. I wish I could get 
the tankard back for her. I wonder where I did 
leave it. I do wish very much that I could find it 
again.” 

Phil now turned and walked to the window and 
looked out. It was a delicious spring da}^, and the 
soft air fanned his cheeks and brought some faint 
color to them. 

“I know what I’ll do,” he said to himself. “I’ll 
go once again into the forest — I’m not likely to get 
lost a second time — and I’ll look for the tankard. 
Of course I may find it, and then mother will be 
happy again. Oh, dear, to think Rupert is in Eng- 
land ! How happy his letter would have made me 
but for mother, and — hullo ! is that you, Kitty ?” 

“Yes; come down,” called out Kitty from the 


196 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


lawn in front of the house. “I’ve been watching 
you with Aunt Griselda’s spy -glasses for the last 
couple of minutes, and you do look solemn.” 

“ I’m coming,” Phil called back. 

He thrust his beloved letter into one of his 
pockets, and a moment later joined his two cousins 
on the lawn. 

“You have been a time,” said Kitty, “and we 
have got some wonderful and quite exciting news 
to tell you — haven’t we, Rachel ?” 

“ You find it exciting, Kitty,” said Rachel in an 
almost nonchalant voice, “ but I dare say Phil will 
agree with me that it’s almost a bore.” 

‘ What is it ?” said Phil. 

“ Oh, only this — the Marmadukes are coming to- 
morrow to stay for ten days.” 

“The Marmadukes 1 Who are they?” asked 
Phil. 

“ Oh, some children from London. They are our 
relations — at least, so Aunt Griselda says ; and she 
thinks it will be nice for us to know them. Any- 
how, they’re coming — two boys and two girls, and 
a father and a mother, and a lady's-maid, and a pug 
dog, and a parrot. Aunt Grizel is so angry about 
the pug and the parrot ; she wanted to write and 
tell them all that they couldn’t come, and then Aunt 
Katharine cried and there was a fuss. It seems 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


197 


they’re more Aunt Katharine’s friends than Aunt 
Grizel’s. Anyhow, they’re coming, and the pug 
and the parrot are to stay in Kew bolt’s room all 
the time ; so don’t you ask to see them, Phil, or 
you’ll get into hot water. The best of it is that 
while they’re here we are all to have holidays, and 
we can go a great deal into the forest and have 
picnics if the weather keeps fine. And in the 
evening Aunt Grizel says she will have the ar- 
mory lighted, and we children may play there and 
have charades and tableaux and anything we fancy. 
Oh, I call it great, splendid fun !” said Kitty, ending 
with a caper. 

Rachel’s very dark eyes had brightened when 
Kitty spoke about the tableaux and the charades. 

“ It all depends on what kind of children the 
Marmadukes are,” she said ; and then she took Phil’s 
hand and walked across the lawn with him. 

She had a fellow-feeling for Phil just at present, 
for he and she shared a secret ; and she noticed as 
he stood by Kitty’s side that his laugh was a little 
forced and that there were very dark lines under his 
eyes. 

“ You’re tired — aren’t you, Phil ?” she said 

“ I ?” asked the little boy, looking up with almost 
alarm in his face. “Oh, please don’t say that, 
Rachel.” 


198 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ Why shouldri , t I say it ? Any one to look at 
you could see you are tired, and I’m sure I don’t 
wonder, after being so ill last night. Go in and lie 
down if you like, Phil, and I’ll pretend to Aunt 
Grizel that you are half a mile away in the forest 
climbing trees and doing all kinds of impossible 
things.” 

“ 1 do want to go into the forest,” said Phil, “ but 
I won’t go to day, Rachel. You were very kind to 
me last night. I love you for being so kind.” 

“ Oh, it wasn’t exactty kindness,” said Rachel. “ I 
came to you because I was curious, you know.” 

“ Yes ; but you were kind, all the same. Do you 
think, Rachel, we shall often go into the forest and 
go a long, long way when the Marmadukes are 
here ?” 

“ Yes, I suppose so. It depends upon the weather, 
of course, and what kind of children they are. They 
may be such puny little Londoners that they may 
not be able to walk a dozen steps. Why do you 
want to know, Phil? You look quite excited. ” 

“We have a secret between us — haven’t we, 
Rachel ?” 

It was Rachel’s turn now to color and look eager. 

“ Yes,” she said ; “ oh, yes.” 

“Some day,” whispered Phil— “ some day, when 
the Marmadukes are here, we might go near the 
lady’s house — might we not?” 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 199 

Each el caught the boy’s arm with a strong con- 
vulsive grasp. 

“ If we might !” she said. “ If we only dared ! And 
you and I, Phil, might steal away from the others, 
and go close to the lady’s house, and watch until she 
came out. And we might see her — oh ! we might 
see her, even if we did not dare to speak.” 

“ I want to go,” said Phil — “ I want to go to that 
house again, although it is not because I want to see 
the lady. It is a secret ; all my life is made up of 
secrets. But I will go if — if I have a chance. And 
if you see me stealing away by myself you will help 
me — won’t you, Rachel?” 

“ Trust me,” said Rachel, with enthusiasm. “ Oh, 
what a dear boy you are, Phil ! I can scarcely be- 
lieve when I talk to you that you are only eight 
years old ; you seem more like my own age. To be 
only eight is very young, you know.” 

“ I have had a grave sort of life,” said Phil, with 
a hastily suppressed sigh, “ and I suppose having a 
great many secrets to keep does make a boy seem 
old.” 


200 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE MARMADUKES. 

The Marmadukes were not at all a puny family ; 
on the contrary, they were all rather above the 
ordinary size. Mr. Marmaduke was extremely 
broad and red and stout ; Mrs. Marmaduke was an 
angular and bony-framed woman, with aquiline 
features and a figure which towered above all the 
other ladies present ; the lady’s-maid took after her 
mistress in stature and became Newbolt’s detesta- 
tion on the spot ; the pug dog was so large that he 
could scarcely be considered thoroughbred ; and the 
parrot was a full-grown bird and the shrillest of its 
species. The four young Marmadukes took after 
their parents and were extremely well developed. 
The eldest girl was thirteen ; her name was 
Clementina ; she had a very fat face and a large 
appetite. The boys, named Dick and Will, were 
sturdy specimens; and Abigail, or Abby, the 
youngest of the group, was considerably spoiled 
and put on many airs, which made her insufferable 
to Kitty and Phil. 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


201 


The Marmadukes arrived in a body, and without 
any efforts on their own parts or the smallest desire 
that way on the part of the old ladies they took 
Avonsyde by storm. They seemed to fill the whole 
house and to pervade the grounds, and to make their 
presence felt wherever they turned. They enter* 
tained themselves and suggested what places they 
should go to see, and announced the hours at which 
they would like best to dine and what times they 
would wish the Avonsyde carriage to be in attend- 
ance. Miss Griselda was petrified at what she was 
pleased to term the manners of the great Babylon. 
Miss Katharine received several snubs at the style 
of friends she kept, and only the fact that they 
were distantly connected with the Lovels, and that 
their visit must terminate within ten days, pre- 
vented Miss Griselda from being positively rude to 
such unwelcome inmates. 

“ Phil,” said Rachel on the second morning after 
the arrival of this obnoxious household, “ if Clem- 
entina thinks she is going to get the upper hand 
of me any more she is finely mistaken. What do I 
care for her Kensington Gardens and that pony she 
rides in the Row ! I don’t suppose she knows how 
to ride — not really ; for I asked her yesterday if she 
could ride barebacked, and she stared at me, and 
turned up her lip, and said in such a mincing voice, 


202 THE LAD Y OF THE FOREST. 

‘We don’t do that kind of thing in London.’ Phil, 
I hate her ; I really do ! I don’t know how I’m to 
endure her for the next week. She walks about 
with me and is so condescending to me ; and I can’t 
endure it — no, I can’t ! Oh, I wish I could do some- 
thing to humble her !” 

“ Poor Eachel !” said Phil in his sweet, pitying 
voice, and a tender, beautiful light which is born of 
sympathy filled his eyes. “ I know Clementina is 
not your sort, Eachel,” he said, “ and I only wish 
she would talk to me and leave you alone.” 

Eachel laughed and leaned her hand affection- 
ately on Phil's shoulder. 

“ I don’t wish that,” she said. “ I don’t want to 
ease myself by adding to your burdens; you have 
quite enough with Dick and Will. You must hate 
them just as much as I hate Clementina.” 

“ Oh, I don’t hate them at all,” said Phil. “ They 
are not my sort ; they are not the style of boys I 
like best, but I get on all right with them ; and as 
to hating, I never hated any one in all my life.” 

“Well, I have,” said Eachel. “And the one I 
hate most now in all the world is Clementina Mar- 
maduke! Oh, here they are, all coming to meet 
us ; and doesn’t poor Kitty look bored to death ?” 

Phil glanced wistfully from one sister to another, 
and then he ran up to Clementina and began to chat 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


203 


to her in a very eager and animated voice. He was 
evidently suggesting something which pleased her, 
for she smiled and nodded her head several times. 
Phil said, “ I’ll bring them to you in a moment or 
two/’ and ran off. 

“ What have you asked Phil to do ?” asked Rachel 
angrily. “ He’s not a strong boy — at least, not very 
strong, and he mustn’t be sent racing about.” 

“ Oh, then, if he’s not strong he won’t ever get 
Avonsyde,” returned Clementina. “How disap- 
pointed his mother will be. I thought Phil was 
very, strong.” 

“ You know nothing about it,” said Rachel, get- 
ting redder and more angry. “ You have no right 
to talk about our private affairs ; they are nothing 
to you.” 

“I only know what my mamma tells me,” said 
Clementina, “ and I don’t choose to be lectured by 
you, Miss Rachel.” 

Here Will and Dick came eagerly forward, 
squared their shoulders, and said : 

“ Go it, girls ! Give it to her back, Rachel. 
She’s never happy except when she’s quarreling.” 

A torrent of angry words was bubbling up to 
Rachel’s lips, but here Phil came panting up, 
holding a great spray of lovely scarlet berries in 
his hand. 


204 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST 


“Here!” he said, presenting it to Clementina. 
“ That is the very last, and I had to climb a good 
tall tree to get it. Let me twine it round your hat 
the way Gabrielle used to wear it. Here, just one 
twist — doesn’t it look jolly ?” 

The effect on Clementina’s dark brown beaver 
hat was magical, and the effect on her temper was 
even more soothing — she smiled and became good- 
tempered at once. Eachel’s angry words were never 
spoken, and sunshine being restored the children 
began to discuss their plans for the day. 

Miss Griselda had given a certain amount of 
freedom to all the young folk, and under super- 
vision — that is, in the company of Eobert, the 
groom — they might visit any part of the forest not 
too far away. When the eager question was asked 
now, “What shall we do with ourselves?” Phil 
replied instantly, “ Let’s go into the forest. Let’s 
visit Eufus’ Stone.” 

Eachel’s eyes danced at this, and she looked 
eagerly and expectantly at her little cousin. 

“You have none of you seen the Stone,” pro- 
ceeded Phil. “ There are splendid trees for climb- 
ing round there, and on a fine day like this it will 
be jolly. We can take our lunch out, and I’ll show 
you lots of nests, Will.” 

“I’ll go on one condition,” said Eachel— “ that 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


205 


we ride. Let’s have our ponies. It is too horrid to 
be cooped up in a wagonette.” 

“ Oh, we’d all much rather ride !” exclaimed the 
Marmaduke children. 

‘Bob can drive the pony-cart to the Stone,” pro- 
ceeded Rachel, “ and meet us there with our lunch- 
eon things. That will do quite well, for as there are 
such a lot of us we won’t want a groom to ride as 
well. We know every inch of the road from here 
to the Stone — don’t we, Phil ?” 

“Yes,” answered Phil softly. 

“Well, that’s splendid,” said Clementina, who 
felt that her berries were very becoming and who 
imagined that Rachel was looking at them envi- 
ously. “ But have you got horses enough to mount 
us all?” 

“ W e’ve got ponies,” said Rachel. “ Rough forest 
ponies; jolly creatures! You shall have Brownie, 
as you’re such a good rider ; he’s nice and spirited — 
isn’t he, Phil?” 

“Yes,” replied Phil. “But I think Clementina 
would have a jollier time with Surefoot ; he goes so 
easily. I think he’s the dearest pony in the world.” 

“ But he’s your own pony, Phil. You surely are 
not going to give up your own pony ?” 

Phil laughed. 

“ Pm not going to give him up,” he said ; “ only 
I think I’d like to ride Brownie this morning.” 


206 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Kachel scarcely knew why she felt ashamed at 
these words ; she certainly had no intention of offer- 
ing her horse to Clementina. 

“What queer ways Phil has/’ she thought to 
herself. And then she saw a softened look in 
Clementina’s eyes and her heart gave a sharp little 
prick. 

Half an hour later the riding party set out, and 
for a time all went smoothly. Kachel was trying 
to curb her impatience ; Clementina amused herself 
by being condescending to Philip; and Dick, Will, 
Kitty, and Abby rode amicably together. But the 
party was ill-assorted, and peace was not likely long 
to reign. Surefoot was an extremely nice pony, 
and Clementina rode well in front, and after a time 
began to give herself airs, and to arrange her fresh 
and very becoming habit, as if she were riding in 
the Kow. Surefoot was gentle, but he was also 
fresh ; and when Clementina touched him once or 
twice with her riding-whip, he shook himself in- 
dignantly and even broke into a canter against her 
will. 

“ You must not touch Surefoot with a whip,” 
sang out Kachel. “ He does not need it and it is an 
insult to him.” 

Clementina laughed scornfully. 

“ All horses need the whip now and then,” she 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


207 


said ; “ it freshens them up and acts as a stimulant. 
You don’t suppose, Rachel, that I don’t know? I 
rather think there are very few girls who know 
more about riding than I do. Why, I have had 
lessons from Captain Delacourt since I can remem- 
ber.” 

“ Is Captain Delacourt your riding-master?” 
asked Rachel in an exasperating voice. If so, he 
can’t be at all a good one ; for a really good riding- 
master would never counsel any girl to use the 
whip to a willing horse.” 

“ Did your riding-master give you that piece of 
information ?” inquired Clementina in a voice which 
she considered full of withering sarcasm. “ I 
should like to know his name, in order that I 
might avoid him.” 

Rachel laughed. 

“ My riding-master was Robert,” she said, “ and 
as he is my aunt’s servant, you cannot get lessons 
from him even if you wish to. You need not sneer 
at him, Clementina, for there never was a better 
rider than Robert, and he has taught me nearly 
everything he knows himself. There isn’t any 
horse I couldn’t sit, and it would take a very clever 
horse indeed to throw me.” 

Clementina smiled most provokingly, and rais- 
ing her whip gave gentle little Surefoot a couple 


208 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


of sharp strokes. The little horse quivered in- 
dignantly, and Rachel glanced at Phil, who was 
riding behind on Brownie. 

“ Oh, Phil,” she called out, “ Clementina is so un- 
kind to your horse. It is well for yon, Clementina, 
that you are on Surefoot’s back. He is so sweet- 
tempered he won’t resent even cruelty very much ; 
but if you dared to whip my horse, Ruby, you would 
have good reason to repent of your rashness.” 

Rachel was riding on a red-coated pony, a half- 
tamed creature with promises of great beauty and 
power by and by, but at present somewhat rough 
and with a wild, untamed gleam in his eyes. 
Clementina glanced all over Ruby, but did not 
deign another remark. She was forming a plan in 
her mind. By hook or by crook she would ride 
Ruby home and show to the astonished Rachel 
what Captain Delacourt’s pupil was capable of. 

The children presently reached their destination, 
where Bob and the light cart of refreshments await- 
ed them. The day was very balmy and springlike, 
and the most fastidious could not but be pleased 
and the most ill-tempered could not fail for a time, 
at least, to show the sunn}^ side of life. The chil- 
dren made merry. Rachel and Clementina forgot 
their disputes in the delights of preparing salads and 
cutting up pies; Phil, the Marmaduke boys, and Ab- 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


209 


by went off on a foraging expedition ; and Kitty 
swung herself into the low-growing branch of a 
great oak tree, and lazily closing her eyes sang soft- 
ly to herself. 

The picnic dinner turned out a grand success ; and 
then Clementina, who was fond of music and who 
had discovered that Kitty had a particularly sweet 
voice, called her to her and said that they might try 
and get up some glees, which would sound delight- 
fully romantic in the middle of the forest. The chil- 
dren sat round in a circle, Clementina now quite in 
her element and feeling herself absolute mistress of 
the occasion. 

Suddenly Phil got up and strolled away. No one 
noticed him but Rachel, w T ho sat on thorns for a few 
minutes ; then, when the singing was at its height, 
she slipped round the oak tree, flew down the glade, 
and reached the little boy as he was entering a 
thick wood which lay to the right. 

“ Phil ! Phil ! you are going to see her ?” 

“ Oh, don’t, Rachel — don’t follow me now ! If we 
are both missed they will come to look for us, and 
then the lady’s house will be discovered and she will 
have to go away. She said if her house was dis- 
covered she would have to go away, and oh, Rachel, 
if you love her — and you say you love her — that 
would be treating her cruelly !” 


210 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ The children won’t miss us,” said Rachel, whose 
breath came fast and whose cheeks were brightly 
colored. “ The children are all singing as loudly as 
they can and they are perfectly happy, and Robert 
is eating his dinner. I won’t go in, Phil ; no, of 
course I won’t go in, for I promised, and I would 
not break my word, to her of all people. But if I 
might stay at a little distance, and if I might just 
peep round a tree and see her, for she may come to 
talk to you, Phil. Oh, Phil, don’t prevent me ! I 
will not show myself, but I might see without being 
seen.” 

Rachel was trembling, and yet there was a bold, 
almost defiant look on her face ; she looked so like 
Rupert that Phil’s whole heart was drawn to her. 

“ You must do what you wish, of course,” he 
said. “ Do you see that gaint oak tree at the top 
of the glade? You can stand there and you can 
peep your head well round. See, let’s come to it. 
See, Rachel, you have a splendid view of the cottage 
from here. Row I will go and try if I can get any 
tidings of Gabrielle’s tankard. Good-by, Rachel. 
Remember your promise not to come any nearer.” 

Phil ran lightly away, and Rachel saw him go 
into the little rose-covered porch of the cottage. 

He raised the tiny knocker, and in a moment or 
two Nancy White answered his summons. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


211 


“ Is the lady — the lady of the forest in, Nancy ?” 
asked the little boy. 

“ The lady ! Bless my heart, if this ain’t Master 
Phil Lovel ! "Well, my dear little gentleman, and 
what may you want?” 

“I want the lady. Can I see her? Perhaps she 
would come out to walk with me for a little, for I 
want to talk to her on a most important thing.” 

“ Bless you, my dear, the lady ain’t at home, and 
if she were she don’t go taking walks at anybody’s 
bidding. She’s particular and retiring in her ways, 
the lady is, and when she’s at home she keeps at 
home.” 

“ I’m sorry she’s not at home to-day,” said Phil, 
leaning against the porch and getting back his 
breath slowly. “It’s a great disappointment, for I 
find it very difficult to come so far, and what I 
wanted to say was really important. Good-by, 
Nancy. Give ray love to the lady when you see 
her.” 

“ Don’t go yet, Master Philip. You’re looking 
very white. I hope you’re quite strong, sir.” 

“Yes, Pm a strong boy,” said Phil in a slow 
voice. 

“You wouldn’t like to come in and rest for a bit, 
little master ? Maybe I could do what you want as 
well as my missus.” 


212 THE LADY OF THE FOREST 

“ Maybe you could,” said Phil, his eyes brighten- 
ing. “ I never thought of that. No, I won’t come 
in, thank you, Nancy. Nancy, do you remember 
the day I was nearly lost in the bog ?” 

“ Of course I do, my dear little man ; and a sorry 
pickle you was when my missus brought you 
home !” 

“ Had I anything in my hand when I was brought 
into the house, Nancy? Please think hard. Had 
I anything rather important in my hand ?” 

“ You had a bit of a brier clutched tight in one 
hand. I remember that, my dear.” 

“ Oh, but what I mean was something quite 
different — what I mean was a large silver drinking- 
mug. I cannot remember anything about it since 
I got lost in the bog, and I am afraid it must have 
gone right down into the bog. But I thought it 
just possible that I might have brought it here. 
You did not see it, did you, Nancy ?” 

“ Well, my dear, is it likely ? Whatever else we 
may be in this house, we ain’t thieves.” 

Phil looked distressed. 

“ I did not mean that,” he said— “ I did not mean 
that. I just thought I might have left it and that 
I would come and ask. Mother is in great trouble 
about the mug ; it means a great lot to mother, and 
it was very careless of me to bring it into the forest. 
I am sorry you did not see it, Nancy.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


213 


“ And so am I, Master Lovel, if it's a-worrying of 
you, dear. But there, the grandest silver can that 
ever was made ain’t worth fretting about. I expect 
it must have slipped into the bog, dear.” 

“ Good-by, Nancy,” said Phil in a sorrowful, 
polite little voice, and he went slowly back to where 
Rachel watched behind the oak tree. 


*14 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

A TENDER HEART. 

Phil’s heart was very low within him. During 
the last few days, ever since that terrible interview 
with his mother, he had built his hopes high. He 
had been almost sure that the tankard was waiting 
for him in the lady’s house in the forest, that he 
should find it there when he went to make inquiries, 
and then that he might bring it back to his mother 
and so remove the shadow from her brow. 

“ I never knew that mother could miss a thing 
Gabrielle had given her so very, very much,” thought 
the little boy. “ But there’s no doubt at all she 
does miss it and that she’s fretting. Poor, dear 
mother ! she’s not unkind to me. Oh, no, she’s 
never that except when she’s greatly vexed ; but, all 
the same, I know she’s fretting; for those lines 
round her mouth have come out again, and even 
when she laughs and tries to be merry downstairs I 
see them. There’s no doubt at all that she’s fretting 

O 

and is anxious. Poor mother ! how I wish I could 
find the green lady of the forest and that she would 


THE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


215 


give me the bag of gold which would satisfy mother’s 
heart.” 

Phil walked very slowly, his eyes fixed on the 
ground. He was now startled to hear a voice ad- 
dressing him, and looking up with a quick move- 
ment, he saw the lady who lived in the pretty little 
cottage coming to meet him. He was not particu- 
larly elated at sight of her ; he had nothing in par- 
ticular to say to her ; for as Nancy had assured him 
that the tankard was not at the cottage, it was 
quite useless making further inquiries about it. 

“ What are you doing here, Philip ?” asked the 
lady in a kind voice. She knew him at once, and 
coming up to him, took his hand and looked kindly 
into his face. “You are a long way from home. 
Have you lost yourself in this dear, beautiful forest 
a second time, little man ?” 

Then Phil remembered that if this lady of the 
forest meant nothing in particular to him she meant 
a great deal to Eachel. He could not forget how 
Eachel’s eyes had shone, how Eachel's face had 
looked when she spoke about her. The color flew 
into his own pale little face, and he spoke with en- 
thusiasm. 

“I am glad I have met you,” he said, “even 
though I don’t know your name. Will you come 
for a walk with me now through the forest? Will 


216 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


you hold my hand and look at me while you speak ? 
Will you walk with me, and will }^ou turn your face 
to the right, always to the right, as you go V 9 

“ You are a queer little boy,” said the lady, and 
she laughed, almost merrily. “ But 1 have just 
taken a very long walk and am tired. You also look 
tired, Philip, and your face is much too white. Sup- 
pose we alter the programme and yet keep together 
for a little. Suppose you come into the cottage with 
me and have some tea, and Nancy makes some of 
her delicious griddle-cakes.” 

“ That would be lovely. I should like it beyond 
anything ; but may Rachel come in too ?” 

“ Rachel !” said the lady of the forest. She put 
her hand suddenly to her heart and stepped back a 
pace or two. 

“Yes, my cousin, Rachel Lovel; she is standing 
up yonder, at the other side of the great oak tree. 
She wants to see you, and she is standing there, 
hoping, hoping. Rachel’s heart is very hungry to 
see you. When she speaks of you her eyes look 
starved. I don’t understand it, but I know Rachel 
loves you better than any one else in the world.” 

“ Impossible !” said the lady ; “ and yet— and yet 
— but I must not speak to her, child, nor she to me. 
It— oh ! you agitate me. I am tired. I have had 
a long walk. I must not speak to little Rachel 
Lovel.” 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 217 

“ She knows that,” said Phil in a sorrowful voice ; 
for the lady’s whiteness and agitation and distress 
filled him with the keenest sympathy. “Rachel 
knows that you and she may not speak, but let her 
look at you. Do ! She will be so good ; she will 
not break her word to you for the world.” 

“I must not look on her face, child. There are 
limits — } r es, there are limits, and beyond them I 
have not strength to venture. I have a secret, 
child ; I have a holy of holies, and you are daring 
to open it wide. Oh ! you have brought me agony, 
and I am very tired !” 

“ I know what secrets are,” said little Phil. “ Oh ! 
they are dreadful ; they give great pain. I am sorry 
you are in such trouble, lady of the forest, and that 
I have caused it. I am sorry, too, that you cannot 
take a very little walk with me, for it would give 
Rachel such pleasure.” 

“ It would give Rachel pleasure ?” repeated the 
lady. And now the color came back to her cheeks 
and the light to her eyes. “ That makes all the dif- 
ference. I will walk with you, Phil, and you shall 
take my hand and I will turn my face to the right. 
See : can Rachel see my face now ?” 

“Yes,” said Phil; “she will peep from behind 
the oak tree. How glad, how delighted she will 
be!” 


218 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


The lady and Phil walked slowly together, hand 
in hand, for nearly half an hour ; during all that 
time the lady did not utter a single word. When 
the walk came to an end she stooped to kiss Phil, 
and then, moved by an impulse which she could not 
restrain, she kissed her own hand fervently and 
waved it in the direction of the oak tree. A little 
childish hand fluttered in the breeze in return, and 
then the lady returned to the cottage and shut the 
door after her. 

Phil ran panting up to the oak tree and took 
RachePs hand. 

“ I did what I could for you, Rachel,” he said. 
“ You saw her — did you not? She kept her face 
turned to the right, and you must have seen her 
quite plainly.” 

RachePs cheeks were blazing like two peonies; 
the pupils of her eyes were dilated ; her lips quiv- 
ered. 

“I saw her!” she exclaimed. “I looked at her, 
and my heart is hungrier than ever !” 

Here she threw herself full length on the ground 
and burst into passionate sobs. 

“ Don’t, Rachel !” said Phil. “ You puzzle me. 
Oh, you make my heart ache ! Oh, this pain !” 

He turned away from Rachel, and leaning against 


TEE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


219 


the oak tree writhed in bodily agony. In a moment 
Rachel had sprung to her feet ; her tears had 
stopped ; and raising Phil’s hat she wiped some 
drops from his white brow. 

“ I ran a little too fast,” he panted, after a mo- 
ment or two. “ I am a strong boy, but I can’t run 
very fast ; it gives me a stitch ; it catches my 
breath. Oh, yes, thank you, Rachel ; I am better 
now. I am a strong boy, but I can’t run very fast.” 

“ You are not a bit a strong boy !” said Rachel, 
wiping away her own tears vigorously. “ I have 
discovered that secret too of yours, Phil. You are 
always pretending to be strong, but it is only pre- 
tense.” 

Phil looked at his cousin in alarm. 

“ If you guess my secrets you won’t tell them ?” 
he said. 

“ Of course I won’t tell. What do you take me 
for ? Now you must not walk for a little, and the 
children are quite happy without us. Is not this a 
nice soft bank? I will sit by your side and you 
shall tell me what the lady said to you and you to 
her.” 

“No,” said Phil, with sudden energy. “ I cannot 
tell you what she said.” 

“ You cannot tell me ?” 

“ No. I took the lady by surprise and she let 


m 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


out some of her secrets — not all, but some. It 
would not be fair to tell them to any one else. I 
asked her to walk with me, and she knew that you 
were watching. Now, Rachel, I am quite well 
again, as well as ever. Shall we go back to the 
other children ?” 

Rachel rose slowly to her feet. 

“I hate secrets,” she said, “and the very air 
seems full of them sometimes. You have lots of 
secrets, and my aunts have secrets, and the lady of 
the forest has a secret, and there is a secret about 
my mother, for I know she is not dead and yet I 
never see her. These secrets are enough to starve 
my heart. Phil, how soon would a girl like me be. 
supposed to be grown up ?” 

“ Oh, Rachel, how can I tell ?” 

“I shall be thirteen in May and I am tall. When 
I am fifteen — that is, in two years’ time — I shall 
begin to go round the world looking for my mother. 
I don’t intend to wait any longer. When I am 
fifteen I shall begin to go.” 

“ In Australia girls are nearly grown up at that 
age,” said Phil, who was thinking of Gabrielle. 
“Now, Rachel, let us go back to the others.” 

The others were getting impatient. They had 
played hide-and-seek, and hunted for squirrels, and 
climbed trees, and quarreled and made it up again, 


TEE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


221 


until all their resourches had come to an end ; and 
when Rachel and Phil made their appearance they 
found that Robert had packed up the remains of the 
picnic, and that Clementina and Abby had already 
mounted their ponies, preparatory to riding home. 
Robert was leading up the other ponies as the two 
missing children appeared. 

Rachel’s mind was still a good deal preoccupied, 
and it was not until she was preparing to mount 
her own pony that she discovered that Clementina 
had secured Ruby and was now seated comfortably 
on his back. 

“ Oh, Clementina, it is not safe for you to ride 
Ruby,” she called out at once. “ He’s only just 
broken in and he’s full of spirit.” 

“ Thank you,” replied Clementina. “I prefer 
riding horses with spirit. I would not have another 
ride on that slow little creature, Surefoot, for the 
world.” 

“ But indeed that is not the reason,” said Rachel, 
who felt herself, she scarcely knew why, both 
softened and subdued. “It is that Ruby is not 
safe. I am the first girl who has ever been on his 
back. He knows me and will do what I tell him, 
but I am sure it is dangerous for you to ride 
him. Is it not dangerous, Robert, for Miss Mar- 
inaduke to ride Ruby ?” called out Rachel to the 
groom. 


222 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Robert came up and surveyed the spirited little 
horse and the young rider critically. 

'“If Miss Marmaduke don’t whip him. and if she 
humors him a good bit and don’t set him off in a 
canter, why, then no harm may be done,” he said. 
“Ruby’s fresh, miss, and have a good deal of wild 
blood in him, and I only broke him in for Miss 
Rachel a fortnight back.” 

Clementina’s color had risen very high during 
this discussion. 

“I presume,” she said in an insolent tone, “that 
a pupil of Captain Delacourt’s can ride any horse 
that a pupil of one of the grooms at Avonsyde can 
manage! I’m sorry you’re so disobliging as to 
grudge me your horse, Rachel. I’ll just ride on in 
front now, and you all can follow me when you are 
ready.” 

She turned Ruby’s head as she spoke and rode 
away under the forest trees. 

“If she gives Ruby a taste of the whip she’ll re- 
pent? of all her proud airs,” muttered Robert. 
“ Now, young ladies, you had better mount and get 
under way. I suppose, Miss Rachel, that that ’ere 
young lad}^ knows the right road home ?” 

“Hadn’t I better get on Brownie and ride after 
her?” asked Phil. 

“No, sir; no. Ruby couldn’t bear horses’ hoofs 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


223 


a-galloping after him. It would set him off mad 
like, and there wouldn’t be a hope for Miss Marma- 
duke. No ; the only thing now is to trust that the 
young lady won’t touch Euby with the whip and 
that she knows the way home.” 

The other children mounted without any more 
discussion, and the ride home was undertaken with 
a certain sense of depression. 

No sign of Clementina could be seen, and when 
they reached the stables at Avonsyde neither she 
nor Euby had put in an appearance. 


224 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTEK XX. 

PUNISHED. 

Clementina was a spoiled child, and in consequence 
was as disagreeable and as full of herself as such 
children are apt to be. She was neither beautiful 
nor clever; she had no outward gifts to counter- 
balance her imperious airs and selfish ways; con- 
sequently she was only popular with her parents 
and with herself. 

The Marmadukes were very rich people, and al- 
though Clementina had no real friends, she had 
many toadies — girls who praised her for the accom- 
plishments she did not possess, for the beauty 
which had been denied her, and for the talents and 
cleverness which she knew nothing whatever about. 
Clementina both believed in and appreciated flat- 
tery. Flattery made her feel comfortable ; it 
soothed her vanity and fed her self-esteem. It was 
not at all difficult to persuade her that she was 
clever, beautiful, and accomplished. But of all her 
acquirements there was none of which she was so 
very proud as of her riding. She was no coward, 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


225 


and she rode fairly well for a town girl. She had 
always the advantage of the best horses, the most 
stylish habits, and the most carefully equipped 
groom to follow her. On horseback her so-called 
friends told her she looked superb; therefore on 
horseback she greatly liked to be. 

Rachel’s words that morning and Rachel’s uncon 
cealed contempt had stung Clementina’s vanity to 
the quick. She was quite determined to show this 
little nobody, this awkward country girl, what 
proper riding meant ; and she galloped off on Ruby 
with her heart beating high with pride, anger, and 
a sense of exultation ; she would canter lightly away 
in the direction of the Avonsyde stables, and be 
ready to meet Rachel haughty and triumphant 
when she returned wearily home on that dull little 
pony, Surefoot. 

Surefoot, however, was not a dull pony. He was 
extremely gentle and docile and affectionate, and 
although he hated the rider he had on his back that 
morning, and resented to the bottom of his honest 
little heart the indignity of being whipped by her, 
still one sound from Rachel’s voice was sufficient to 
restrain him and to keep him from punishing the 
young lady who chose to ride him in the manner 
she deserved. Clementina had ridden Surefoot and 
he had instantly broken into a canter, but at the 


226 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


sound of Rachel’s voice he had moderated his speed. 
Clementina quite believed that Surefoot had obeyed 
her firm hand ; and now, as she galloped away on 
Ruby, she laughed at the fears expressed for her 
safety by Rachel and Robert, the groom. 

“ They’re jealous,” she said to herself ; " they’re 
both of them jealous, and they don’t want me to 
have the only decent horse of the party. Oh, yes, 
Ruby, my fine fellow, you. shall have a touch of the 
whip presently. I’m not afraid of you.” 

She felt for her little silver-mounted riding-whip 
as she spoke and lightly flicked Ruby’s ears with it. 

Back went the ears of the half-trained little horse 
at once, lightning glances seemed to flash from his 
red-brown eyes, and in a moment he had taken to 
his heels and was away. 

His movement almost resembled flying, and for a 
little time Clementina persuaded herself that she 
enjoyed it. This was riding indeed! this was a 
gallop worth having ! What spendid use she could 
make of it with her school-friends by and by. These 
were her first sensations, but they were quickly 
followed by others less pleasurable. Ruby seemed 
to be going faster and faster ; his legs went straight 
before him ; he rushed past obstacles ; he disdained 
to take the slightest notice of Clementina's feeble 
little attempts to pull him in. She lost her breath 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


22 ? 


and with it in a great measure her self-control. 
Were they going in the right direction ? No; she 
was quite sure they were not ; she had never seen 
that wide expanse of common ; she had never noticed 
that steep descent ; she had never observed that 
gurgling, rushing avalanche of water; and — oh, 
good God ! Euby was rushing to it She screamed 
and attempted violently to pull him in ; he shook 
his head angrily and flew forward faster than be- 
fore; for Euby was not of the gentle nature of 
Surefoot, and he could not forgive even the very 
slight indignity which Clementina had offered him. 
The wretched girl began to scream loudly. 

“ I shall be killed ! I shall be killed ! Oh ! will no 
one save me ?” she screamed. 

Her cries seemed to madden Euby. He drew up 
short, put his head between his legs, and with an 
easy movement flung Clementina off his back on to 
the ground. The next moment he himself was out 
of sight. 

Clementina found herself sitting in the middle of 
a bog — a bog not deep enough to drown her, but 
quite wet enough, quite uncomfortable enough, to 
soak through her riding-habit and to render her 
thoroughly wretched. At first, when Euby had 
dislodged her from his back, her sensations were 
those of relief ; then she was quite certain every 


228 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


bone in her body was broken ; then she was equally 
convinced that the slow and awful death of sinking 
in a bog awaited her. She was miles from home ; 
there w r as not a soul in sight ; and yet, try as she 
would, she could not raise herself even to a standing 
position, for the treacherous ground gave way when- 
ever she attempted to move. 

Her fall had shaken her considerably, and for a 
time she sat motionless, trying to recover her breath 
and wondering if arms and legs were all smashed. 

“ Oh, what a wicked girl Rachel is !” she said at 
last. “What right had she to go out on a wild 
horse like that ? She must have done it for a trick ; 
she must have done it on purpose ; she meant me to 
ride Ruby coming home, and so she tantalized me 
and tried to rouse my spirit. Margaret and Jessie 
Dawson say that I am just full of spirit, and I never 
can brook that sneering way, particularly from a 
mere child like Rachel. Well, well, she’s punished 
now, for I shall probably die of this. If all my 
bones aren’t broken, and I firmly believe they are, 
and if I don’t sink in this horrid bog — which I expect 
I shall — I’m safe to have rheumatic fever and to die 
of it, and then what will Rachel do? She’ll never 
know an easy moment again as long as she lives. 
She’ll be sorry for the tricks she played me when 
she thinks of me lying in my early grave. Oh, 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


229 


dear ! oh, dear ! what shall I do ? what shall I 
do r 

Poor Clementina threw up her hands, by so doing 
fastening herself more firmly in the odious bog, and 
burst into a loud wailing cry. She was cold and 
wet now, the excitement of her wild race was over, 
and as the moments flew on, lengthening themselves 
into half-hours and hours, she became thoroughly 
frightened. Oh, how awful if the night should over- 
take her while she sat there ! And yet what more 
likely ? for not a soul had passed the place since her 
accident. As her anger cooled and her fright in- 
creased, several prickings of that dull conscience of 
hers smote the unhappy girl. After all, was Rachel 
to blame for what had happened ? Had she not 
begged and even implored of her not to ride Ruby? 
Had not Robert spoken freely of what would hap- 
pen if she did so ? Oh, if only she had listened to 
their voices ! if only she had not been so self-con- 
fident! She pictured them all safe and sound now 
at home at Avonsyde. She imagined them sitting 
in the pleasant armory chatting over the day’s ad- 
ventures and most likely forgetting all about her. 
Abby and the boys, if occupied over any exciting 
game, would be certain to forget her ; little Kitty, 
to whom she had always been specially cross, 
would most likely rejoice in her absence ; Rachel, 


230 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


if she had Lime to give her a thought, would be sure 
to be possessed with a sense of triumph; and Phil — 
ah ! well, somehow or other Phil was different from 
other boys and girls. Phil had a look in his eyes, 
Phil had a way about him which Clementina recog- 
nized as belonging to the rare and beautiful spirit 
of unselfishness. Phil’s small, thin, white face was 
ever and always alive and glowing with sympathy ; 
his eyes would darken and expand at the mere men- 
tion of anybody’s trouble, and again that little sen- 
sitive face would sparkle and glow with delight over 
anybody’s joy. Clementina, sitting now in the 
middle of the bog, the most lonely and wretched 
girl alive, could not help feeling comforted as she 
thought of Phil ; it was more than probable that if 
all the others forgot her Phil might remember. 

While Clementina was waiting in a state of ab- 
solute despair matters were not so hopeless for her 
as she supposed. The children when they reached 
Avonsyde gave an instant alarm, and steps were at 
once taken to search for the missing girl. But it is 
one thing to be lost in the forest and another thing 
to be found. Buby had taken Clementina in the 
opposite direction from Avonsyde, and when she 
was submerged in the bog she was many miles 
away. Robert, shaking his head and muttering that 
a willful girl must come to grief, and that it would 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


231 


be well if they ever saw Miss Marraaduke alive 
again, went off to saddle a fresh horse to go in search 
of her. Other people also started on the same 
errand; and Phil, whose pale little face was all 
aglow with excitement, rushed into the stables, and 
securing a horse, mounted it and rode away after 
the others. The boy was a splendid rider, having 
been accustomed to mounting all kinds of steeds 
from his babyhood ; but he was tired now, and 
neither Miss Griselda nor his mother would have 
allowed him to go had they known anything about 
it. But the elder members of the family were all 
away, and the children and servants were only act- 
ing on their own responsibility. 

Phil soon caught up Robert, and the two trotted 
together side by side. 

“ Pm quite certain I saw Ruby turning to the left 
after he went down that steep bank,” said Phil. 

“ Then if he did he made for the bog and the 
waterfall as likely as not,” said Robert. 

“ Oh, Robert, you don’t suppose Clementina has 
been drowned in one of the bogs ?” exclaimed Phil 
in an accent of terror. “ You don’t, you can’t sup- 
pose that?” 

The man favored the boy with a queer glance. 

“ If Miss Marmaduke was like you, Master Lovel, 
or like Miss Rachel or Miss Kitty, why, I’d say 


232 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


there weren’t a hope of her ; bat being what she is 
— well, maybe she’ll be given a little more time to 
mend her manners in.” 

Phil’s face assumed a puzzled expression. He 
said nothing further, and the two rode hard and 
fast. 

In this manner they did at last find poor Clemen- 
tina, who, much subdued and softened, received 
them with almost rapture. 

“ There’s nothing like affliction for bringing 
characters of that sort low,” muttered Robert as he 
helped the young lady on his own horse. “And 
now, where’s that little beauty Ruby, I wonder ? 
Dashed hisself to pieces as likely as not agin’ some 
of them rocks up there. Oh, yes, and there’ll be no 
’count made at all of one of the prettiest little horses 
I ever broke in.” 

Robert had to run by Clementina’s side, who was 
really considerably shaken and who gave way to 
violent hysterics soon after they started. 

“ Somehow, Phil, I thought you would remem- 
ber,” she said at last, turning to her little companion 
and speaking in a broken voice. 

“ Why, of course we all remembered,” said Phil. 
“We were all more sorry about you than I can say ; 
and as to Rachel, she has been crying like anything. 
It seems a pity, Clementina, it really does, you 
know ” And then he stopped. 


THE LAD 7 OF THE FOREST. 


233 


“ What seems a pity, Phil ?” 
u That you should be so obstinate. You know you 
were ; and you were rude, too, for you should not have 
taken Rachel’s horse. It seems to me a great pity that 
people should try to pretend — everybody’s always 
trying to pretend ; and what is the use of it ? Now, 
if you had not tried to pretend that you could ride 
as well or better than Rachel, you wouldn’t have 
got into this trouble and we wouldn’t have been so 
terribly sorry. Where was the use of it, Clemen- 
tina ?” added Phil, gazing hard at the abashed and 
astonished young lady ; “ for nobody could expect 
you to ride as well as Rachel, who is a country girl 
and has been on horseback such a lot, you know.” 

Phil delivered his lecture in the most innocent 
way, and Clementina received it with much hu- 
mility, wondering all the time why she was not 
furiously angry ; for surely this was the strangest 
way to speak to a girl w T ho had been for three 
seasons under Captain Delacourt. 

She made no reply to Phil’s harangue and rode 
on for some time without speaking. 

Suddenly a little sigh from the boy, who kept so 
bravely at her side, reached her ears. She turned 
and looked at him. It was quite a new sensation 
for Clementina to observe any face critically except 
her own : but she did notice now the weariness 


234 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


round the lips and the way the slight little figure 
drooped forward. 

“You’re tired, Phil,” she said. “ You have tired 
yourself out to find me.” 

“I am tired,” he replied. “¥e rode very fast, 
and my side aches, but it will be better by and by.” 

“ You can scarcely sit on your horse,” said Clem- 
entina in a tone of real feeling. “ Could not your 
groom — Robert, I think, you call him — mount the 
horse and put you in front of him ? He could put 
his arm round you and you would be nicely 
rested.” 

“ That’s a good thought, miss,” said Robert, with 
sudden heartiness. “ And, to be sure, Master Philip 
do look but poorly. It’s wonderful w T hat affliction 
does for them sort of characters,” he muttered 
under his breath as he complied with this sugges- 
tion. 

When the little party got near home, Phil, who 
had been lying against Robert and looking more 
dead than alive, roused himself and whispered some- 
thing to the groom. Robert nodded in reply and 
immediately after lifted the boy to the ground. 

“I’m going to rest. Please, Clementina, don’t 
say I am tired,” he said ; and then he disappeared 
down a little glade and was soon out of sight. 

“Where is he going?” asked Clementina of 
Robert. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


235 


“ To a little nest as he has made for hisself, miss, 
just where the trees grow thickest up there. He 
and me, we made it together, and it’s always dry 
and warm, and nobody knows of it but our two 
selves. He often and often goes there when he 
can’t bear up no longer. I beg your pardon, miss, 
but I expect I have no right to tell. You won’t 
mention what I have said to any of the family, 
miss ?” 

“ No,” said Clementina ; “ but I feel very sorry 
for Phil, and I cannot understand why there should 
be any mystery made about his getting tired like 
other people.” 

“Well, miss, you ask his lady mother. Perhaps 
she can tell you, for certain sure no one else can.” 

Clementina went into the house, where she was 
received with much excitement and very consider- 
able rejoicing. She presented a very sorry plight, 
her habit being absolutely coated with mud, her 
hair in disorder, and even her face bruised and dis- 
colored. But it is certain that Rachel had never 
admired her so much as when she came up to her 
and, coloring crimson, tried to take her hand. 

“ Phil said I was rude to you, Rachel, and I am 
sorry,” she muttered. 

“ Oh, never mind,” answered Rachel, whose own 
little face was quite swollen with crying. “I was so 


236 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


dreadfully, dreadfully unhappy, for I was afraid 
Euby had killed you, Clementina.” 

Clementina was now hurried away to her own 
room, where she had a hot bath and was put to bed, 
and where her mother fussed over her and grumbled 
bitterly at having ever been so silly as to come to 
such an outlandish part of the country as Avonsyde. 

“ I might have lost you, my precious,” she said to 
her daughter. “It was nothing short of madness 
my trusting } r ou to those wild young Lovels.” 

“ Oh, mother, they aren’t a bit to blame, and I 
think they are rather nice, particularly Phil.” 

“Yes, the boy seems a harmless, delicate little 
creature. I wonder if the old ladies will really make 
him their heir.” 

“ I hope they will, mother, for he is really very 
nice.” 

In the course of the evening, as Clementina was 
lying on her pillows, thinking of a great many 
things and wondering if Phil was yet rested enough 
to leave his nest in the forest, there came a tap at 
her door, and to her surprise Phil’s mother entered. 
In some ways Mrs. Lovel bore a slight resemblance 
to Clementina ; for she also was vain and self-con- 
scious and she also was vastly taken up with self. 
Under these circumstances it was extremely natural 
that the girl and the woman should feel a strong 


TEE LAE T OF THE FOREST. *>37 

antipathy the one to the other, and Clementina felt 
annoyed and the softened expression left her face 
as Mrs. Lovel took a chair by her bedside. 

“ How are you now, my dear — better, I hope ?” 

“ Thank you, I am quite well,” answered Clemen- 
tina. 

“You had a wonderful escape. Ruby is not half 
broken in. No one attempts to ride him except 
Rachel.” 

Clementina felt the old sullen feeling surging up 
in her heart. 

“ Such a horse should not be taken on a riding- 
party,” she said shortly. “I have had lessons from 
Captain Delacourt. I can manage almost any 
horse.” 

“ You can doubtless manage quiet horses,” said 
Mrs. Lovel. “Well, you have had a wonderful 
escape and ought to be thankful.” 

“ How is Phil ? questioned Clementina after a 
pause. 

“ Phil ? He is quite well, of course. He is in the 
armory with the other children.” 

“ He was not well when I saw him last. He looked 
deadty tired.” 

“ That was his color, my dear. He is a remark- 
ably strong boy.” 

Clementina gave a bitter little laugh. 


238 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


" You must be very blind,” she said, “or perhaps 
you don’t wish to see. It was not just because he 
was pale that he could not keep his seat on horse- 
back this afternoon. He looked almost as if he 
would die. You must be a very blind mother — 
very blind.” 

Mrs. Lovel’s own face had turned white. She 
was about to make a hasty rejoinder, when the door 
was again opened and Miss Griselda and Miss 
Katharine came in. 

“ Hot a word, my dear ! I will explain to you 
another time — another time,” she whispered to the 
girl. And then she stole out of the room. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


239 


CHAPTER XXI. 

% 

WHAT THE HEIR OUGHT TO BE. 

A few days after these exciting events the Mar- 
mad ukes went away. Unless a sense of relief, 
they left no particular impression behind them. 
The grown-up people had not made themselves in- 
teresting to the old ladies ; the lady’s-maid and the 
parrot alike had disturbed Xewbolt’s equanimity ; 
and the children of Avonsyde had certainly not 
learned to love the Marmaduke children. Clem- 
entina had been humbled and improved by her ac- 
cident, but even an improved Clementina could not 
help snubbing Rachel every hour of the day, and 
Rachel did not care to be snubbed. On the day 
they left Phil did remark, looking wistfully round 
him : “ It seems rather lonely without the Marma- 
dukes.” But no one else echoed the sentiment, 
and in a day or two these people, who were so im- 
portant in their own eyes, were almost forgotten at 
Avonsyde. 

On one person, however, this visit had made a 
permanent impression : that person was poor Mrs. 


240 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST \ 


Lovel. She was made terribly uneasy by Clem- 
entina’s words. If Clementina, an ignorant and 
decidedly selfish girl, could notice that Phil was 
not strong, could assure her, in that positive, un- 
pleasant way she had, that Phil was very far from 
strong, surely Miss Griselda, who noticed him so 
closely and watched all he did and said with such 
solicitude, could not fail to observe this fact also. 
Poor Mrs. Lovel trembled and feared and wondered, 
now that the tankard was lost and now that Phil’s 
delicacy was becoming day by day more apparent, 
if there was any hope of that great passionate desire 
of hers being fulfilled. 

Just at present, as far as Miss Griselda was con- 
cerned, she had no real cause for alarm. 

Miss Griselda had quite made up her mind, and 
where she led Miss Katharine was sure to follow. 
Miss Griselda was certain that Phil was the heir. 
Slowly the conviction grew upon her that this little 
white-faced, fragile boy was indeed the lineal de- 
scendant of Rupert Lovel. She had looked so 
often at his face that she even imagined she saw a 
likeness to the dark-eyed, dark-browed, stern-look- 
ing man whose portrait hung in the picture-gallery. 
This disinherited Rupert had become more or less 
of a hero in Miss Griselda’s eyes. From her earliest 
years she had taken his part; from her earliest 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


241 


years she had despised that sickly younger line from 
which she herself had sprung. Like most women, 
Miss Griselda invested her long-dead hero with 
many imaginary charms. He was brave and great 
in soul. He was as strong in mind as he was in 
physique. When she began to see a likeness be- 
tween Phil’s face and the face of her old-time hero, 
and when she began also to discover that the little 
boy was generous and brave, that he was one of 
those plucky little creatures who shrink from 
neither pain nor hardship, had Phil’s mother but 
known it, his cause was won. Miss Griselda began 
to love the boy. It was beginning to be delightful 
to her to feel that after she was dead and gone lit- 
tle Phil would have the old house and the lands, 
that he should reign as a worthy squire of Avon- 
syde. Already she began to drill the little boy 
with regard to his future duties, and often when he 
and she took walks together she spoke to him about 
what he was to do. 

“All this portion of the forest belongs to us, 
Phil,” she said to him one day. “ My father often 
talked of having a roadway made through it, but he 
never did so, nor will Katharine and L We leave 
that as part of your work.” 

“Would the poor people like it?” asked Phil, 
raising his eyes with their queer expression to her 


142 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


face. “That’s the principal thing to think about, 
isn’t it — if the poor people would like it?” 

Miss Griselda frowned. 

“ I don’t agree with vou,” she said. “ The first 
and principal thing to consider is what is best 
for the lord of Avonsyde. A private road just 
through these lands would be a great acquisition, 
and therefore for that reason you will have to un- 
dertake the work by and by.” 

Phil’s eyes still looked grave and anxious. 

“ Do you think, then — are you quite sure that I 
am really the heir, Aunt Griselda ?” he said. 

Miss Griselda smiled and patted his cheek. 

“Well, my boy, you ought to know best,” she 
said. “ Your mother assures me that you are.” 

“ Ob, yes — poor mother !” answered Phil. “Aunt 
Griselda,” he continued suddenly, “ if you were 
picturing an heir to yourself, you wouldn’t think of 
a boy like me, would you ?” 

“ I don’t know, Phil. I do picture you in that 
position very often. Your Aunt Katharine and I 
have had a weary search, but at last you have come, 
and I may say that, on the whole, I am satisfied. 
My dear boy, we have been employed for six years 
over this search, and sometimes I will own that I 
have almost despaired. Katharine never did ; but 
then she is romantic and believes in the old 
rhyme.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


243 


“ What old rhyme ?” asked Phil. 

“ Have you not heard it ? It is part and parcel 
of our house and runs in different couplets, but the 
meaning is always the same : 

“ ‘ Come what may come, tyde what may tyde, 

Lovel shall dwell at Avonsyde.’ ” 

“ Is that really true ?” asked Phil, his eyes shining. 
“ I like the words very much. They sound like a 
kind of speech that the beautiful green lady of the 
forest would have made ; but, Aunt Griselda, I must 
say it — I am sorry.” 

“ What about, dear ?” 

“ That you are satisfied with me as an heir.” 

“ My dear little Phil, what a queer speech to 
make. Why should not I be satisfied with a nice, 
good little boy like you ?” 

“ Oh, yes, you might like me for m\ 7 self,” said 
Phil ; “ but as the heir — that is quite a different 
thing. Pd never picture myself as an heir — 
never !” 

“ What do you mean, Phil?” 

“ I know what I mean, Aunt Griselda, but it’s a 
secret, and I mustn’t say. I have a lovely picture 
in my mind of what the heir ought to be. Perhaps 
there is no harm in telling you what my picture is 
like. Oh, if you only could see him !” 

“ See whom, Philip ?” 


244 


THE LAD7 OF THE FOREST. 


“My picture. He is tall and strong and very 
broad, and be has a look of Rachel, and his cheeks 
are brown, and his hair is black, and his arms are 
full of muscle, and his shoulders are perfectly square, 
and he holds himself up so erect, just as if he was 
drilled. He is strong beyond anybody else I know, 
and yet he is kind ; he wouldn’t hurt even a fly. 
Oh, if you only knew him. He’s my picture of an 
heir!” 

Phil’s face flushed and his lovely eyes shone. 
Aunt Griselda stooped down and kissed him. 

“You are a queer boy,” she said. “You have 
described your ancestor, Rupert Lovel, to the life. 
Well, child, may you too have the brave and kindly 
soul. Phil, after the summer, when all is decided, 
you are to go to a preparatory school for Eton and 
then to Eton itself. All the men of our house have 
been educated there. Afterward I suppose you 
must go to Oxford. Your responsibilities will be 
great, little man, and you must be educated to take 
them up properly.” 

“ Mother will be pleased with all this,” said Phil ; 
“ only I do wish — yes, I can’t help saying it — that 
my picture was the heir. Oh, Aunt Grizel, do, do 
look at that lovely spider !” 

“ I believe the boy is more interested in those 
wretched spiders and caterpillars than he is in all 


TEE LALY OF THE FOREST. 245 

the position and wealth which lies before him,” 
thought Miss Griselda. 

Late on that same day she said to Miss Katharine : 

“ Phil this morning drew a perfect picture, both 
mental and physical, of our ancestor, Katharine.” 

“ Oh,” said Miss Katharine ; “I suppose he was 
studying the portrait. Griselda, I see plainly that 
you mean to give the boy the place.” 

“ Provided his mother can prove his descent,” 
answered Miss Griselda in a gentle, satisfied tone. 
“ But of that,” she added, “ I have not, of course, 
the smallest doubt.” 

“Does it occur to you, Griselda, to remember 
that on the 5th of May Rachel’s and Kitty’s mother 
comes here to claim her children ?” 

“ If she is alive,” said Miss Griselda. “I have 
my doubts on that head. We have not had a line 
from her all these years.” 

“You told her she was not to write.” 

“ Yes, but is it likely a woman of that class would 
heep her word P 

“ Griselda, you will be shocked with me for say- 
ing so, but the young woman who came here on the 
day our father died was a lady.” 

“Katharine! she served in a shop.” 

“Ko matter, she was a lady; her word to her 
would be sacred. I don’t believe she is dead. I am 
sure she will come here on the 5th of May.” 


246 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

EIGHT IS RIGHT. 

When Rupert Lovel and his boy left the gloomy 
lodgings where Rachel’s and Kitty’s mother was 
spending a few days, they went home in absolute 
silence. The minds of both were so absorbed that 
they did not care to speak. Young Rupert was a 
precocious lad, old and manly beyond his years. 
Little Phil scarcely exaggerated when he drew 
glowing pictures of this fine lad. The boy was 
naturally brave, naturally strong, and all the cir- 
cumstances of his bringing-up had fostered these 
qualities. His had been no easy, bread-and-butter 
existence. He had scarcely known poverty, for his 
father had been well off almost from his birth ; but 
he had often come in contact with danger, and lat- 
terly sorrow had met him. He loved his mother 
passionately ; even now he could scarcely speak of 
her without a perceptible faltering in his voice, with- 
out a dimness softening the light of his bright eagle 
eyes. Rupert at fifteen was in all respects some 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


247 


years older than an English boy of the same 'ige. 
It would have struck any parent or guardian as 
rather ridiculous to send this active, clever, well-in- 
formed lad to school. The fact was, he had been to 
Nature’s school to some purpose, and had learned 
deeply from this most wonderful of all teachers. 

When Rupert and his father reached the hotel in 
Jermyn Street where they were staying, the boy 
looked the man full in the face and broke the silence 
with these words : 

“ Now, father, is it worth it ?” 

“ Is it worth what, my son ?” 

“You know, father. After hearing that lady 
talk I don’t want Avonsyde.” 

The elder Lovel frowned. He was silent for a 
moment; then he laid his hand on the boy’s 
shoulder. 

“ Look me in the face, lad, and answer me a 
question.” 

“ Yes, father.” 

“ Do you trust me ?” 

“ Why, of course. Can you doubt it ?” 

“ Then go to bed and to sleep, and believe that 
nothing shall be done which in the slightest degree 
shall tarnish your honor. Go to bed, boy, and sleep 
peaceful^, but just put one thought under your 
pillow. Right is right and wrong is wrong. I« 


248 


TEE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


sometimes so happens, Rupert, that it is not the 
right and best thing to be simply magnanimous.” 

Rupert smiled. 

“ I am quite certain }'ou will decide as my mother 
would have liked best, sir,” he said, and then he 
took his candle and left the room. 

The greater part of the night the elder Lovel sat 
up. Early the next morning he paid the family 
lawyers a visit. 

“ I have made up my mind, Mr. Baring,” he said 
to the younger of these gentlemen. “ For the next 
few months I shall remain in England, but I shall 
not bring my son forward as an heir to the Avon- 
syde property until I can claim for him unbroken 
and direct descent. As I told you yesterday, there 
are two unexpected obstacles in my way. I have 
sustained a loss — I don’t know how. An old tankard 
and a parcel of valuable letters cannot be found. I 
am not leaving a stone unturned to recover them. 
When I can lay my hand on the tankard and when, 
even more important, I can produce the letters, I 
can show you by an unbroken chain of evidence 
that my boy is the eldest son of the eldest son in 
direct descent. I make no claim until I make all 
claim, Mr. Baring.” 

“ I have to-day had a letter from the old ladies at 
Avonsyde,” answered Mr. Baring, “They seem 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 249 

pleased with the boy who is at present claiming the 
property. From the tone of Miss Griselda’s letter, 
I should judge that if your boy does not put in his 
appearance the child who is at present at Avons} r de 
will be publicly recognized as the heir. Even a 
public recognition does not really interfere with 
your son if you can prove his title ; but undoubtedly 
it will be best for all parties that you should make 
your claim before the other child is put into a false 
position.” 

“ When do } 7 ou anticipate that the old ladies will 
absolutely decide ?” 

“ They name a date — the 5th of May.” 

“ I think I can promise one thing : after the 5th 
of May neither Rupert nor I will interfere. We 
make claim before or on that date, not afterward. 
The fact is, we know something of the child who is 
now at Avonsyde.” 

Mr. Lovel, after enjoining absolute secrecy on the 
lawyers, went his way, and that evening had a long 
interview with Mrs. Lovel. 

“I fear,” he said in conclusion, “that in no case 
would your girls come into the place, except indeed 
under certain conditions.” 

“ What are they?” asked Mrs. Lovel. 

“ That we find neither tankard nor letters and in 
consequence do not make our claim, and that little 
Philip Lovel dies.” 


250 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ Is he so ill as that V 9 

“ He is physically unsound. The best doctors in 
Melbourne have examined him and do not believe 
he will live to manhood. His mother comes of an 
unhealthy family, and the boy takes after her 
physically — not mentally, thank God !” 

“ Poor little Phil ! He has a wonderfully sweet 
face.” 

“ He has the bravest nature I ever met. My boy 
and girls would almost die for Phil. The fact is, all 
this is most complicated and difficult, and much of 
the mischief would have been avoided if only that 
wretched sister-in-law of mine had been above- 
board.” 

“Yes,” answered Mrs. Lovel ; “but even her 
stealing a march on you does not give you back the 
tankard nor the letter.” 

“ True ; and I don’t suppose even she could have 
stolen them. Well, Kachel, we must all hope for 
the best.” 

“ If there is a thing that worries me,” said Nancy 
White to herself-— “ if there is a thing that keeps 
coming and coming into my dreams and getting that 
fantastic and that queer in shape — one time being 
big enough to hold quarts and quarts of water, and 
another time so small that you’d think it would 


TEE LAP T OF THE FOREST. 


251 


melt before your very eyes — it’s this wretched silver 
can. It’s in my mind all day long and it’s in my 
dreams all night long. There ! I wonder if the 
bit of a thing is bright enough now.” 

As Nancy spoke to herself she rubbed and 
polished and turned round and round and tenderly 
dusted the lost tankard of the house of Lovel until 
it really shone like a mirror. 

“ It takes a deal of trouble, and I’m sure it isn’t 
worth it,” she said to herself. “ I just kept it more 
out of a bit of mischief than anything else in the 
beginning ; but it just seems to me now as if I hated 
it, and yet I couldn’t part with it. I believe it’s a 
bit of a haunted thing, or it wouldn’t come into my 
dreams after this fashion.” 

Nancy kept the tankard up in her bedroom. 
After giving it a last fond rub and looking at it 
queerly with an expression half of admiration, half 
of fear, she locked it up in a little cupboard in the 
wall and tripped downstairs to attend to her mis- 
tress’ comforts. 

Mrs. Lovel kept no secrets from her old servant, 
and Nancy knew about her mistress’ adventures in 
London and her unexpected meeting with the friend 
of her early days. Kupert Lovel. Still, Nancy had 
a shrewd suspicion that not quite all was told her ; 
she had a kind of idea that there was something in 
the background. 


252 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST, 


“ It comes over me,” she said to herself — “ it comes 
over me that unless I, Nancy White, am as sharp 
as sharp and as cunning as cunning, my missus and 
my young ladies will be done. What is it that the 
missus is keeping in the back of her head to make 
her look that dreamy, and that wistful, and that 
despairing, and yet that hopeful ? My word, if I 
haven’t seen her smile as if she was almost glad 
once or twice. Poor dear! maybe she knows as 
that little delicate chap can’t be the heir ; and as to 
the others — the old gentleman and the fine young 
lad from the other side of the earth — why, if they 
have a claim to make, why don’t they make it? 
And if they don’t make it, then, say I, it’s because 
they can’t. Well, now, anything is better than 
suspense, and I’ll question my missus on that very 
point straight away.” 

Accordingly, when Nancy had arranged the tea- 
tray in the most tempting position and stirred the 
fire into the cheeriest blaze, she knelt down before 
it and began to make some crisp and delicious toast. 
Nancy knew that Mrs. Lovel had a weakness for 
the toast she made, and she also knew that such an 
employment was very favorable to confidential con- 
versation. 

“ Well, ma’am,” she said suddenly, having coughed 
once or twice and gone through one or two other 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


253 


little maneuvers to attract attention— “ well, ma’am, 
I wants to have my mind eased on a certain point. 
Is it, ma’am, or is it not the case that the old gen- 
tleman from Australia means to do you a mischief ?” 

“What do you mean, Nancy ?” exclaimed Mrs. 
Lovel, laying down the lace which she was em- 
broidering and gazing at her old servant in some 
astonishment. “ The old gentleman from Australia ? 
Why, Rupert Lovel cannot be more than forty. He 
is a man in his prime, splendidly strong; and as to 
his doing me a mischief, I believe, you silly old 
woman, that he is one of my best friends.” 

“The proof of the pudding is in the eating,” 
snorted Haney. “ You’ll excuse me, ma’am, but I’d 
like to prove that by his actions. He means that 
young son of his to get possession of Avonsyde — 
don’t he, ma’am ?” 

“ His son is the real heir, Haney. Dear Haney, 
I wish to say something. I must not be covetous 
for my little girls. If the real and lawful heir turns 
up I have not a word to say. Hay, more, I think if 
I can be glad on this subject I am glad that he 
should turn out to be the son of my early and oldest 
friend.” 

“ Oh, yes, ma’am, I’m not a bit surprised about 
you. Bother that toast, how it will burn ! It’s just 
like you, ma’am, to give up everything for six 


254 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


blessed years, and to have your heart well-nigh 
broke and your poor eyes dimmed with crying, and 
then in the end, when the cup that you have been 
so longing for is almost to your lips, to give up 
everything again and to be glad into the bargain. 
That’s just like you, ma’am ; but, you’ll excuse me, 
it ain’t like Nancy White, and if you can be glad in 
the prospect of seeing your children beggared, I 
can’t ; so there !” 

“ Dear Nancy,” said Mrs. Lovel, laying her hand 
on the old servant’s shoulder, “how am I to help 
myself? Both might and right are against me. 
Had I not better submit to the inevitable with a 
good grace?” 

“ That bonny little Miss Kachel,” continued 
Nancy, “ don’t I see her now, with her eyes flash- 
ing as she looked up at me and that fine, imperious 
way she had, and ‘ tell the lady to wear my ring, 
Nancy,’ says she, ‘ and tell her that I love her,’ says 
she.” 

“ Little darling,” whispered the mother, and rais- 
ing her hand she pressed a tiny ring which she wore 
to her lips. 

“ Miss Eachel isn’t meant for poverty,” continued 
Nancy, “and what’s more, I’m very sure Miss Kitty 
isn’t either ; so, ma’am, I’d like to be sure whether 
they are to have it or not ; and a question I’d dearly 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


255 


like to have answered is this : If the middle-aged 
man, Mr. Rupert Lovel, and his son have a claim to 
Avonsyde, why don’t they make it ? Anything is 
better than suspense, say I. Why don’t we know 
the worst and have done with it?” 

“ Why, Nancy, I thought I had told you every- 
thing. Mr. Lovel won’t make a claim until he can 
make a perfect claim. The fact is, some of his 
credentials are lost.” 

“ The toast is done, ma’am. May I make bold to 
ask what you mean by that? You had better eat 
your toast while it is hot and crisp, Mrs. Lovel. 
The good gentleman from Australia hasn’t to go to 
the old ladies with a character in his hand, like a 
servant looking for a situation ?” 

“ No, no, Nancy ; but he has to bring letters and 
other tokens to prove his son’s descent, to prove 
that his son is a true Lovel of Avonsyde of the 
elder branch, and unfortunately Mr. Lovel has lost 
some valuable letters and an old silver tankard 
which has been for hundreds of years in the family, 
and which was taken from Avonsyde by the Rupert 
Lovel who quarreled with his relations.” 

Mrs. Lovel’s head was bent over her lace, and she 
never noticed how red Nancy’s face grew at this 
moment, nor how she almost dropped the steaming 
kettle with which she was about to replenish the 
tea-pot. 


256 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST \ 


u Oh, my word !” she exclaimed hastily. “ It 
seems as if toast and kettle and all was turned 
spiteful to-night. There’s that boiling water flowed 
over on my hand. Never mind, ma’am — it ain’t 
nothing. What was it you were saying was lost, 
ma’am ?” 

“ Letters, Nancy, and a tankard.” 

“ Oh, letters and a tankard. And what may a 
tankard be like ?” 

“ This was an old-fashioned silver can, with the 
Lovel coat of arms and the motto of their house, 
; Tyde what may,’ graved on one side. Why, 
Nancy, you look quite pale.” 

“ It’s the burn, ma’am, that smarts a little. And 
so the silver can is lost ? Dear, dear, what a mis- 
fortune ; and the fine young gentleman can’t get 
the place noway without it. Is that so or not, 
ma’am ?” 

“Well, Nancy, the tankard seems to be con- 
sidered a very important piece of evidence, and Mr. 
Lovel is not inclined to claim the property for his 
son without it. However, he is having careful 
search made in Australia, and will probably hear 
tidings of it any day.” 

“ That’s as Providence wills, ma’am. It’s my be- 
lief that if the middle-aged gentleman was to search 
Australia from tail to head he wouldn’t get no tid 


TEE LAD Y OF TEE FOREST. 257 

ings of that bit of a silver mug. Dear, dear, how 
this burn on my hand do smart !” 

“ You had better put some vaseline on it, Nancy. 
You look quite upset. I fear it is worse than you 
say. Let me look at it.” 

“No, no, ma’am ; it will go off presently. Dear, 
what a taking the gentleman must be in for the 
silver mug. Well, ma’am, more unlikely things 
have happened than that your bonny little ladies 
should come in for Avonsyde. Did I happen to 
mention to you, ma’am, that I saw Master Phil 
Lovel yesterday ?” 

“No, Nancy. Where and how ?” 

“ He was with one of the old ladies, ma’am, in 
the forest. He was talking to her and laughing 
and he never noticed me, and you ma}^ be sure I 
kept well in the background. Eh, but he’s a dear 
little fellow ; but if ever there was a bit of a face 
on which the shadow rested, it’s his,” 

“ Nancy, Nancy, is he indeed so ill? Poor, dear 
little boy !” 

“ No, ma’am, I don’t say he’s so particular ill. 
He walked strong enough and he looked up into the 
old lady’s face as bright as you please ; but he had 
the look — I have seen it before, and I never could 
be mistaken about that look on any face. Not long 
for this world was written all over him. Too good 


258 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


for this world was the way his eyes shone and his 
lips smiled. Dear heart, ma’am, don’t cry. Such 
as them is the blessed ones ; they go away to a deal 
finer place and a grander home than any Avon- 
syde.” 

“ True,” said Mrs. Lovel. “ I don’t cry for that, 
but I think the child suffers. He spoke very sor- 
rowfully to me.” 

“Well, ma’am, we must all go through it, one 
way or another. My old mother used to say to me 
long ago, ‘ Hancv, ’tis contrasts as do it. I’m so 
tired out with grinding, grinding, and toiling, toil- 
ing, that just to rest and do nothing seems to me as 
if it would be perfect heaven.’ And the little fel- 
low will be the more glad some day because he has 
had a bit of suffering. Dear, dear, ma’am, I can’t 
get out of my head the. loss of that tankard.” 

“ So it seems, Haney ; the fact seems to have 
taken complete possession of you. Were it not ab- 
solutely impossible, I could even have said that my 
poor honest old Haney was the thief! There, 
Haney, don’t look so startled. Of course I was 
only joking.” 

“ Of course, ma’am ; but you’ll just excuse me if 
I go and bind up my burned hand.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


259 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

FOREST LIFE. 

The spring came early that year. A rather 
severe winter gave place to charming and genial 
weather. In April it was hot, and the trees made 
haste to clothe themselves with their most delicate 
and fairy green, the flowers peeped out joyfully, the 
birds sang from morning till night, and the forest 
became paradise. 

Rachel, Kitty, and Phil almost lived there. Miss 
Griselda and Miss Katharine had become lenient in 
the matter of lessons. Miss Griselda was wise 
enough to believe in nature’s lessons and to think 
tine fresh air the best tonic in all the world for 
both mind and body. Phil was in his element in 
the forest. He was always finding new beetles and 
fresh varieties of chrysalides, which he and Kitty 
carefully treasured ; and as to the roots and the 
flowers and the mosses which these children col- 
lected, even good-natured Hewbolt at last gave vent 
to strong expressions of disapproval, and asked if 
the whole of the house was to be turned topsy-turvy 
with their messes. 


260 


THE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


Phil could do what he liked in his old tower bed- 
room ; his mother never interfered with him there. 
This quaint old room was Liberty Hall to Phil. 
Here he could groan if he wanted to, or sigh if he 
wanted to, or talk his secrets to the silent, faithful 
walls if he wanted to ; and here he brought his 
spiders and his beetles and his mosses, and kept 
them in odd bottles and under broken glasses, and 
messed away to his heart’s content without any one 
saying him nay. 

Downstairs Mrs. Lovel was a most careful and 
correct mother — never petting and never spoiling, 
always on her guard, always watchful and prim. 
Miss Griselda was wont to say that with all her 
follies she had never come across a more sagacious 
and sensible mother than Mrs. Lovel. As a mother 
she approved of her absolutely ; but then Miss 
Griselda never saw behind the scenes ; she never 
saw what went on in the tower bedroom, where 
Mrs. Lovel would take the bo}' in her arms, and 
strain him to her heart with passionate kisses, and 
pet him and make much of him, and consult him, 
and, above all things, faithfully promise him that 
after the 5th of May the burden which was crushing 
his young life should be removed, and he might be 
his own natural and unrestrained self again. 

Mrs. Lovel had got a dreadful fright when she 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 261 

first read young Rupert’s letter; but when day 
after day and week after week passed and no tid- 
ings of Rupert or his father reached Avonsyde, she 
began to hope that even though they were in 
England, they had come over on business in no 
way connected with the old family home ; in short, 
even though they were in England, they had not 
seen those advertisements which had almost turned 
her head. 

The weeks passed quickly, and she began to 
breathe freely and to be almost happy once more. 
The loss of the tankard was certainly disquieting, 
but she felt sure that with the aid of the stolen 
letters she could substantiate her boy’s claim, and 
she also reflected that if the tankard was lost to 
her it was also lost to her brother-in-law, Rupert 
Lovel. 

So life went quite smoothly at Avonsyde, and day 
after day the weather became more balmy and spring- 
like, and day after day Miss Griselda’s face wore a 
softer and gentler expression ; for the little heir- 
apparent was altogether after her own heart, and 
she was contented, as all women are when they 
find a worthy object to love. 

Miss Katharine too was smiling and happy in 
these early spring days. She had never forgotten 
the face of the mother who had left her two chil- 


262 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


dren in her charge nearly six years ago. That 
young and agonized face had haunted her dreams ; 
some words which those poor trembling lips had 
uttered had recurred to her over and over. 

“ It breaks my heart to part with the children,” 
the mother had said, “ but if in no other way I 
can provide for their future, I sacrifice myself 
willingly. I am willing to obliterate myself for 
their sakes.” 

Miss Katharine had felt, when these words were 
wrung from a brave and troubled heart, that pride 
was indeed demanding a cruel thing ; but for Miss 
Griselda she would have said : 

“ Come here with your children. You are Valen- 
tine’s wife, and for his sake we will be good to you 
as well as them.” 

Miss Katharine had longed to say these words, 
but fear of her elder sister had kept her silent, and 
ever since her heart had reproached her. Now she 
felt cheerful, for she knew that on Rachel’s birth- 
day the mother of the children would return, and 
she knew also that when she came she would not 
go away again. 

Rachel’s charming little face had lost a good deal 
of its watchful and unrestful expression during the 
last few weeks. She had seen Nancy White more 
than once, and Nancy had so strongly impressed on 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


263 


her the fact that on the 5th of May the lady of the 
forest would reveal herself, and all the mystery of 
her secret and her seclusion be explained, that the 
little girl grew hopeful and bright and fixed her 
longing eyes on that birthday which was to mean 
so much to so many. Kitty too looked forward to 
the 5th of May as to a delightful general holiday ; 
in short, every one was excited about it, except the 
child to whom it meant the most of all. Little 
Phil alone was unconcerned about the great day — 
little Phil alone lived happily in the present, and, if 
anything, rather put the future out of sight. To 
him the thought of the inheritance which on that 
day was to be forced upon him was felt to be a 
heavy burden ; but, then, those little shoulders were 
already over- weigh ted, and God knew and little 
Phil also knew that they could not bear any added 
burden. 

Of late little Phil had been very glad to feel that 
God knew about his secrets and his cares, and in his 
own very simple, childish little way he used lately 
to ask him not to add to them ; and now that he 
was sure God knew everything, he ceased to trouble 
his head very much about all that was to happen on 
Rachel’s birthday. 

Thus every one at Avonsyde, with the exception 
of little Phil, was happy in the future, but he alone 


204 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


was perfectly happy in the present. His collection 
of all kinds of natural curiosities grew and multi- 
plied, and he spent more and more time in the love- 
ly forest. The delicious spring air did him good, 
and his mother once more hoped and almost believed 
that health and strength lay before him. 

One day, quite toward the end of April, Kitty, 
his constant companion, had grown tired and refused 
to stay out any longer. The day was quite hot, and 
the little boy wandered on alone under the shade of 
the trees. As usual when quite by himself, he 
chose the least-frequented paths, and as usual the 
vague hope came over him that he might see the 
lovely green lady of the forest. Ho such exquisite 
vision was permitted to him, but instead he came 
suddenly upon Haney White, who was walking in 
the forest and picking up small dry branches and 
sticks, which she placed in a large basket hung over 
her arm. When she saw Phil she started and almost 
dropped her basket. 

“ Well I never 1” she exclaimed. “ You has gone 
and given me a start, little master.” 

“How do you do, Haney ?” said Phil, goingupto 
her, speaking in a polite voice, and holding out his 
hand. “ How is the lady of the forest ? Please tell 
her that I have kept her secret most carefully, that 
no one knows it but Rachel, and she knew it long 
ago. I hope the lady is very well, Haney.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


265 


“ Yes, my dear, she is well and hopeful. The days 
are going on, Master Philip Lovel, and each day as 
it passes brings a little more hope. I am sure you 
are little gentleman enough to keep the lady’s 
secret.” 

“ Everybody speaks about the days passing and 
hope growing,” said Phil. “ I — I — Nancy, did you 
ever see the green lady about here ? She could 
bring me hope. How I wish I could see her !” 

“ Now, don’t be fanciful, my dear little gentle- 
man,” answered Nancy. “Them thoughts about 
fairies and such-like are very bad for growing chil- 
dren. You shouldn’t allow your head to wander on 
such nonsense. Little boys and girls should at- 
tend to their spelling lessons, and eat plenty, and go 
to bed early, and then they have no time for fret- 
ting after fairies and such. It isn’t canny to hear 
you talk as you do of the green lady, Master Phil.” 

“Isn’t it?” said Phil. “I am sorry. I do wish to 
see her. I want a gift from her. Good-by, Nancy. 
Give ray love to the lady.” 

“ I will so, dear ; and tell me, are you feeling any 
way more perky — like yourself?” 

“ I’m very well, except when I’m very bad,” an- 
swered Phil. “ Just now I’m as well as possible, but 
in the evenings I sometimes get tired, and then it 
rather hurts me to mount up so many stairs to my 


266 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


tower bedroom ; but oh ! I would not sleep in any 
other room for the world. I love my tower room.” 

“Well, you’ll be a very happy little boy soon,” 
said Nancy — “ a very happy, rich little boy ; for if 
folks say true everything has to be given to you on 
the 5th of May.” 

“ A lot of money and lands, you mean,” said Phil. 
“ Oh, yes ; but they aren’t everything — oh, dear, no ! 
I know what I want, and I am not likely to have it. 
Good-by, Nancy ; good-by.” 

Phil ran off, and Nancy pursued her walk stolid- 
ly and soberly. 

“ The look grows,” she said to herself — “ the look 
grows and deepens. Poor little lad ! he is right 
enough when he says that gold and lands won’t satisfy 
him. Well, now, I’m doing him no harm by keep- 
ing back the silver tankard. It’s only his good-for- 
nothing mother as will be put out, and that middle- 
aged man in London and that other boy. What do 
I care for that other boy, or for any one in all the 
world but my missus and her dear little ladies? 
There, there, that tankard is worse than a nightmare 
to me. I hate it, and I’d give all the world never to 
have seen it ; but there, now that I’ve got it I’ll keep 
it” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


26? 


CHAPTER XXIY. 

A GREAT ALARM. 

“ Katharine,” said Miss Griselda to her younger 
sister, “ do you happen to remember the address of 
those lodgings in London where we wrote years 
ago to Rachel’s and Kitty’s mother ? The 5th of 
May will be this day week, and although I dislike 
the woman, and of course cannot possibly agree with 
you as to her being in any sense of the word a lady, 
yet still when Griselda Lovel passes her word she 
does pass it, and I think it is right, however pain- 
ful, to give the young woman the invitation for the 
5th of May.” 

“We wrote one letter nearly six years ago to Ho. 
10 Abbey Street, Marshall Road, S.W., London,” 
answered Miss Katharine in a sharp voice for her. 
« One letter to a mother about her own children ; 
but that was the address, Griselda.” 

“Ho. 10 Abbey Street,” repeated Miss Griselda. 
“ I shall send the young woman an invitation to- 
day. Of course it won’t reach her, for she is dead 
long ago ; but it is only right to send it. Katharine, 


268 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


you don’t look well this morning. Is anything the 
matter ?” 

“ Nothing more than usual,” answered Miss 
Katharine. “ One letter in six years to Valentine’s 
wife. Oh, no, I was not likely to forget the ad- 
dress.” 

“ Allow me to congratulate you on your excellent 
memory, my dear. Oh, here comes Phil’s mother. 
I have much to talk over with her.” 

Miss Katharine left the room ; her head was 
throbbing and tears rose unbidden to her eyes. 
When she reached the great hall she sat down on 
an oak bench and burst into tears. 

“ How cruel of Griselda to speak like that of Val- 
entine’s wife,” she said under her breath. “ If Val- 
entine’s wife is indeed dead I shall never know 
another happy moment. Oh, Eachel and Kitty, 
my dears, I did not see you coming in.” 

“Yes, and here is Phil too,” said Kitty, dragging 
him forward. “ Why are you crying, Aunt Kath- 
arine ? Do dry your tears and look at our lovely 
flowers.” 

“ I am thinking about your mother, children,” 
said Miss Katharine suddenly. “ Does it ever occur 
to you two thoughtless, happy girls that you have 
got a mother somewhere in existence — that she 
loves you and misses you 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


269 


“I don’t know ray mother,” said Kitty. “ I can’t 
remember her, but Kachel can.” 

“Yes,” said Kachel abruptly. “I’m going all 
round the world to look for her by and by. Don’t 
let’s talk of her ; I can’t bear it.” 

The child’s face had grown pale; a look of 
absolute suffering filled her dark and glowing eyes. 
Miss Katharine was so much astonished at this little 
peep into Kachel’s deep heart that she absolutely 
dried her own tears. Sometimes she felt comforted 
at the thought of Kachel suffering. If even one 
child did not quite forget her mother, surely this 
fact would bring pleasure to the mother by and by. 

Meanwhile Miss Griselda was holding a solemn 
and somewhat alarming conversation with poor 
Mrs. Lovel. In the first place, she took the good 
lady into the library — a dark, musty- smelling room, 
which gave this vivacious and volatile person, as 
she expressed it, “ the horrors ” on the spot. Miss 
Griselda having secured her victim and having 
seated her on one of the worm-eaten, high-backed 
chairs, opened the book-case marked D and took 
from it the vellum-bound diary which six years ago 
she had carried to the old squire’s bedroom. From 
the musty pages of the diary Miss Griselda read 
aloud the story of the great quarrel ; she read in an 
intensely solemn voice, with great emphasis and 


270 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


even passion. Miss Griselda knew this part of the 
history of her house so well that she scarcely needed 
to look at the words of the old chronicler. 

“It may seem a strange thing to you, Mrs. 
Lovel,” she said when she had finished her story — 
“a strange and incomprehensible thing that your 
white-faced and delicate-looking little boy should 
in any way resemble the hero of this quarrel.” 

“Phil is not delicate,” feebly interposed Mrs. 
Lovel. 

“I said delicate-looking. Pray attend to me. 
The Rupert who quarreled with his father — I will 
confess to you that my sympathies are with Rupert 
— was in the right. He was heroic — a man of 
honor ; he was brave and stalwart and noble. Your 
boy reminds me of him — not in physique, no, no ! 
but his spirit looks out of your boy’s eyes. I wish 
to make him the heir of our house.” 

“Oh, Miss Griselda, how can a poor, anxious 
mother thank you enough ?” 

“ Don’t thank me at all. I do it in no sense of 
the word for you. The boy pleases me ; he has won 
on my affections ; I — love him.” 

Miss Griselda paused. Perhaps never before in 
the whole course of her life had she openly admit- 
ted that she loved any one. After a period which 
seemed interminable to poor Mrs. Lovel she re- 
sumed : 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


271 


“ My regard for the boy is, however, really of 
small consequence ; he can only inherit under the 
conditions of my father’s will. These conditions 
are that he must claim direct descent from the 
Eupert Lovel who was treated so unjustly two 
hundred years ago, and that he has, as far as it is 
possible for a boy to have, perfect physical health.” 

Mrs. Lovel grew white to her very lips. 

“ Phil is perfectly strong,” she repeated. 

Miss Griselda stared at her fixedly. 

“I have judged of that for myself,” she said 
coldly. “ I have studied many books on the laws 
of health and many physiological treatises, and 
have trusted to my own observation rather than to 
any doctor’s casual opinion. The boy is pale and 
slight, but I believe him to be strong, for I have 
tested him in many ways. Without you knowing 
it I have made him go through many athletic 
exercises, and he has often run races in my pres- 
ence. I believe him to be sound. We will let that 
pass. The other and even more important matter 
is that he should now prove his descent. You have 
shown me some of your proofs, and they certainly 
seem to me incontestable, but I have not gone really 
carefully into the matter. My lawyer, Mr. Baring, 
will come down here on the afternoon of the 4th 
and carefully go over with you all your letters and 


m 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


credentials. On the 5th I have invited many 
friends to come to Avonsyde, and on that occasion 
Katharine and I will present Philip to our many 
acquaintances as our heir. We will make the oc- 
casion as festive as possible, and would ask you to 
see that Philip is suitably and becomingly dressed. 
You know more of the fashions of the world than 
we do, so we will leave the matter of device in your 
hands, of course bearing all the expense ourselves. 
By the way, you have observed in the history I 
have just read bow the old silver tankard is men- 
tioned. In that terrible scene where Rupert finally 
parts with his father, he takes up the tankard and 
declares that ‘Tyde what may* he will yet return 
vindicated and honored to the old family home. 
That was a prophecy,” continued Miss Griselda, 
rising with excitement to her feet ; “ for you have 
brought the boy and also the very tankard which 
Rupert took away with him. I look upon your 
possession of the tankard as the strongest proof of 
all of the justice of your claim. By the way, you 
have never yet shown it to me. Do you mind 
fetching it now ?” 

Muttering something almost unintelligible, Mrs. 
Lovel rose and left the library. She crossed the 
great hall, opened the oak door which led to the 
tower staircase, and mounting the winding and worn 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


273 


stairs, presently readied her bedroom. The little 
casement windows were opened, and the sweet air 
of spring was filling the quaint chamber. Mrs. 
Lovel shut and locked the door ; then she went to 
one of the narrow and slit-like windows and looked 
out. A wide panorama of lovely landscape lay be- 
fore her ; miles of forest lands undulated away to 
the very horizon; the air was full of the sweet 
songs of many birds ; the atmosphere was perfumed 
with all the delicious odors of budding flowers and 
opening leaves. In its way nothing could have 
been more perfect ; and it was for Phil — all for 
Phil ! All the beauty and the glory and the loveli- 
ness, all the wealth and the comfort and the good 
position, were for Phil, her only little son. Mrs. 
Lovel clasped her hands, and bitter tears came to 
her eyes. The cup was almost to the boy’s lips. 
Was it possible that anything could dash it away 
now ? 

The tankard — she was sent to fetch the silver 
tankard — the tankard which Phil himself had lost! 
What could she do? How could she possibly frame 
an excuse ? She dared not tell Miss Griselda that 
her boy had lost it. She felt so timid, so insecure, 
that she dared not confess what an ordinary woman 
in ordinary circumstances would have done. She 
dreaded the gaze of Miss Griselda's cold, unbelieving 


274 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


gray eyes ; she dreaded the short sarcastic speech 
she would be sure to make. No, no, she dared not 
confess ; she must dissemble ; she must prevaricate ; 
on no account must she tell the truth. She knew 
that Miss Griselda was waiting for her in the library ; 
she also knew that the good lady was not remark- 
able for patience ; she must do something, and at 
once. 

In despair she rang the bell, and when Newbolt 
replied to it she found Mrs. Lovel lying on her bed 
with her face partly hidden. 

“ Please tell Miss Lovel that I am ill, Newbolt,” 
she said. “ I have been taken with a very nasty 
headache and trembling and faintness. Ask her if 
she will excuse my going downstairs just for the 
present.” 

Newbolt departed with her message, and Mrs. 
Lovel knew that she had a few hours’ grace. She 
again locked the door and, rising from her bed, 
paced up and down the chamber. She was far too 
restless to remain quiet. Was it possible that the 
loss of the tankard might be. after all, her undoing ? 
Oh, no! the dearly loved possession was now so 
close ; the auspicious day was so near ; the certainty 
was at her door. No, no ! the letters were proof of 
Philip’s claim ; she need not be so terribly fright- 
ened. Although she reasoned in this way, she felt 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


275 


by no means reassured, and it suddenly occurred to 
her that perhaps if she went into the forest she 
might find the tankard herself. It might be lying 
even now forgotten, unnoticed under some bush be- 
side the treacherous bog which had almost swal- 
lowed up her boy. What a happy thought I Oh, 
yes ; she herself would go to look for it. 

Mrs. Lovel did not know the forest as Phil and 
Rachel and Kitty did. The forest by itself had no 
charms whatever for her. She disliked its solitude ; 
she saw no beauty in its scenery ; no sweetness 
came to her soul from the song of its happy birds or 
the brilliance of its wild flowers. No, no — the city 
and life and movement and gayety for Mrs. Lovel ; 
she was a poor artificial creature, and Nature was 
not likely to whisper her secrets into her ears. 

When Phil came up by and by his mother ques- 
tioned him minutely as to the part of the forest into 
which he had wandered. Of course he could not 
tell her much ; but she got a kind of idea, and feeble 
as her knowledge was she resolved to act on it. 

Early the next morning she rose from an almost 
sleepless bed, and carefully dressing so as not to 
awaken her sleeping boy, she stole downstairs and, 
as Phil had done some months before, let herself out 
by a side entrance into the grounds. It was winter 
when Phil had gone on his little expedition — a win- 


276 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


tor’s morning, with its attendant cold and damp and 
gloom ; but now the spring sun was already getting 
up, the dew sparkled on the grass, and the birds 
were having a perfect chorus of rejoicing. Even 
Mrs. Lovel, unimpressionable as she was to all 
nature’s delights, was influenced by the crisp and 
buoyant air and the sense of rejoicing which the 
birds and flowers had in common. She stepped 
quite briskly into the forest and said to herself : 

“ My spirits are rising ; that terrible depression I 
underwent yesterday is leaving me. I take this as 
a good omen and believe that I may And the tank- 
ard.” 

Phil had given her certain directions, and for 
some time she walked on bravely, expecting each 
moment to come to the spot where the boy had as- 
sured her the beaten track ended and she must 
plunge into the recesses of the primeval forest itself. 
Of course she lost her way, and after wandering 
along for some hours, seated herself in an exhausted 
state at the foot of a tree, and there, without in the 
least intending to do so, fell asleep. 

Mrs. Lovel was unaccustomed to any physical 
exercise, and her long walk, joined to her sleepless 
night, made her now so overpoweringly drowsy 
that she not only slept, but slept heavily. 

In her sleep she knew nothing at all of the 


TEE LAD 7 OF TEE FOREST. 277 

advance the clay was making. The sun’s rays dart- 
ing through the thick foliage of the giant oak tree 
under which she slumbered did not in the least 
disturb her, and when some robins made their 
breakfast close by and twittered and talked to one 
another she never heard them. Some rabbits and 
some squirrels peeped at her quite saucily, but they 
never even ruffled her placid repose. Her head 
rested against the tree, her bonnet was slightly 
pushed back, and her hands lay folded over each 
other in her lap. 

Presently there was a sound of footsteps, and a 
woman came up and bent over the sleeping lady in 
the forest. The woman was dressed in a short 
petticoat, strong boots, a striped jersey jacket, and 
a shawl thrown over her head ; she carried a basket 
on her arm and she was engaged in her favorite 
occupation of picking sticks. 

“ Dearie me ! now, whoever is this ?” said Haney 
White as she bent over Phil’s mother. “Dearie, 
dearie, a poor white-looking thing ; no bone or 
muscle or go about her, I warrant. And who has 
she a look of ? I know some one like her — and yet 
— no, it can’t be — no. Is it possible that she fea- 
tures pretty little Master Phil?” 

Haney spoke half-aloud, and came yet nearer and 
bent very low indeed over the sleeper. 


278 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“She do feature Master Phil and she has got the 
dress of a fine lady. Oh, no doubt she's his poor, 
weak bit of a mother ! Bless the boy ! No wonder 
he’s ailing if she has the mothering of him.” 

Nancy’s words were all muttered half-aloud, and 
under ordinary occasions such sounds would un- 
doubtedly have awakened Mrs. Lovel ; now they 
only caused her to move restlessly and to murmur 
some return words in her sleep. 

“ Phil, if we cannot find that tankard we are un- 
done.” Then after a pause : “ It is a long way to 
the bog. I wonder if Phil has left the tankard on 
the borders of the bog.” 

On hearing these sentences, which were uttered 
with great distinctness and in accents almost border- 
ing on despair, Nancy suddenly threw her basket 
to the ground; then she clasped her two hands 
over her head and, stepping back a pace or two, 
began to execute a hornpipe, to the intense astonish- 
ment of some on-lookers in the shape of birds and 
squirrels. 

“Ah, my lady fair!” she exclaimed, “what you 
have let out now makes assurance doubly sure. 
And so you think you’ll find the precious tankard 
in the bog ! Now, now, what shall I do ? How 
can I prevent your going any further on such a 
fool’s quest? Ah, my pretty little ladies, my 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


279 


pretty Miss Each el and Miss Kitty, I believe I did 
you a good turn when I hid that tankard away.” 

Kancy indulged in a few more expressions of self- 
congratulation ; then, a sudden idea coming to her, 
she fumbled in her pocket for a bit of paper, and scrib- 
bling something on it laid it on the sleeping lady’s 
lap. 

When Mrs. Lovel awoke, somewhere close on 
midday, she took up the little piece of paper and 
read its contents with startled eyes : 

“ Come what may come, tyde what may tyde, 

Lovel shall dwell at Avonsyde. 

“False heirs never yet have thriven; 

Tankards to the right are given.” 

The last two lines, which Kancy had composed in 
a perfect frenzy of excitement and rapture at what 
she considered a sudden development of the poetic 
fancy, caused poor Mrs. Lovel’s cheeks to blanch 
and her eyes to grow dim with a sudden overpower- 
ing sense of fear. She rose to her feet and pursued 
her way home, trembling in every limb. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


2S0 


CHAPTER XXV. 

A DREAM WITH A MEANING. 

Phil had a dream which had a great effect on 
him. There were several reasons for this. In the 
first place, it wanted but two days to the great 5th 
of May ; in the second place, he was feeling really 
ill, so was making greater efforts than usual to 
conceal all trace of languor or weariness ; in the 
third place, Rachel came to him about half an hour 
before he went upstairs to bed and burst out crjdng, 
and told him she knew something was going to 
happen. Rachel was not a child who was particu- 
larly given to tears, but when she did cry she cried 
stormily. She showed a good deal of excitement of 
a passionate and over- wrought little heart to Phil 
now, and when he questioned her and asked her 
why she was so excited about her birthday, she 
murmured first something about the lady of the 
forest and then about her mother, and then, afraid 
of her own words, she ran away before Phil could 
question her further. Phil’s own mother, too, 
seemed to be in a most disturbed and unnatural 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


281 


state. She was always conning a piece of paper 
and then putting it out of sight, and her eyes had 
red rims round them, and when Phil questioned her 
she owned that she had been crying, and felt, as 
she expressed it, “ low.” All these things combined 
caused Phil to la}^ his head on his white pillow with 
a weary sigh and to go off into the land of dreams 
by no means a perfectly happy little boy. 

Once there, however, he was happy enough. In 
the first place, he was out of his bed and out of the 
old house, where so many people just now looked 
anxious and troubled ; and, in the second place, he 
was in a beautiful new forest, his feet treading on 
velvet grass, his eyes gazing at all those lovely 
sights in which his little soul delighted. He was in 
the forest and he was well, quite well ; the tiredness 
and the aching had vanished, the weakness had dis- 
appeared ; he felt as though wings had been put to 
his feet, as though no young eagle could feel a 
keener and grander sense of strength than did he. 
He was in the forest, and coming to meet him under 
the shadows of the great trees was a lady — the 
lady he had searched for so long and hitherto 
searched for in vain. She came quite naturally and 
gently up to him, took his little hand, looked into 
his eyes, and stooping down she touched his fore 
head with her lips. 


2$2 THE LAD T OF THE FOREST. 

“ Brave little boy l” she said. “ So you have 
come.” 

“ Yes,” answered Phil, “and you have come. I 
have waited for you so long. Have you brought 
the gift ?” 

“ Beauty of face and of heart. Yes, I bring them 
both,” answered the lady. “ They are yours ; take 
them.” 

“ My mother,” whispered Phil. 

“ Your mother shall be cared for, but you and she 
will soon part. You have done all you could for 
her — all, even to life itself. You cannot do more. 
Come with me.” 

“ Where ?” asked Phil. 

“ Are you not tired of the world? Come with me 
to Fairyland. Take my hand — come ! There you 
will find perpetual youth and beauty and strength 
and goodness — come !” 

Then Phil felt within himself the wildest, the 
most intense longing to go. He looked in the lady’s 
face, and he thought he must fly into her arms ; he 
must lay his head on her breast and ask her to soothe 
all his life troubles away. 

“ I know you,” he said suddenly. “ Some people 
call you by another name, but I know who you are. 
You give little tired boys like me great rest; and 
I want beyond words to go with you, but there is 
my mother.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


283 


“ Y our mother will be cared for. Come. I can 
give you something better than Avonsyde.” 

“ Oh, I don’t want Avonsyde ! I am not the 
rightful heir.” 

“ The rightful heir is coming,” interrupted the 
lady of the forest. “ Look for him on the 5th of 
May, and look for me too there. Farewell !” 

She vanished, and Phil awoke, to find his mother 
sitting by his bedside, her face bent over him, her 
eyes wide open with terror. 

“ Oh, my darling, how you have looked ! Are 
you — are you very ill ?” 

“ No, mammy dear,” answered the little boy, sit- 
ting up in the bed and kissing her in his tenderest 
fashion. “ I have had a dream and I know what is 
coming, but I don’t feel very ill.” 

Mrs. Lovel burst into floods of weeping. 

“ Phil,” she said when she could speak through 
her sobs, “ it is so near now — only one other day. 
Can you not keep up just for one more day 

“ Yes, mother ; oh, yes, mother dear. I have 
had a dream. Hold my hand, mother, and I will 
try and go to sleep again. I have had a dream. 
Everything is quite plain now. Hold my hand, 
mammy dear. I love you ; you know that.” 

He lay back again on his pillows and, exhausted, 
fell asleep. 


284 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


Mrs. Lovel held the little thin hand and looked 
into the white face, and never went to bed that 
night. Ever since her sleep in the forest she had 
been perturbed and anxious ; that mysterious bit of 
paper had troubled her more than she cared to own. 
She was too weak-natured a woman not to be more 
or less influenced by superstition, and she could not 
help wondering what mysterious being had come to 
her and, reading her heart’s secret, had told her to 
bid good-by to hope. 

But all her fears and apprehensions had been 
nothing, had been child’s play, compared to the 
terror which awoke in her heart when she saw the 
look on her boy’s face as she bent over him that 
night. She knew that he had never taken kindly to 
her scheme ; she knew that personally he cared 
nothing at all for all the honors and greatness she 
would thrust upon him. He was doing it for her 
sake ; he was trying hard to become a rich man 
some day for her sake; he was giving up Rupert 
whom he loved and the simple life which contented 
him for her. Oh, yes, because, as he so simply said, 
he loved her. But she laid too heavy a burden on 
the young shoulders; the long strain of patient 
endurance had been too much, and the gallant little 
life was going out. 

On the instant, quick, quick as thought, there 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


285 


overmastered this weak and selfish woman a great, 
strong tide of passionate mother’s love. What was 
Avonsyde to her compared to the life of her boy ? 
Welcome any poverty if the boy might be saved! 
She fell on her knees and wept and wrung her 
hands and prayed long and piteously. 

When in the early, early dawn Phil awoke, his 
mother spoke to him. 

“ Philip dear, you would like to see Kupert 
again V' 

“So much, mother.” 

“ Avonsyde is yours, but you would like to give it 
to him ?” 

“ If I might, mother — if I might !” 

“ Leave it to me, my son. Say nothing — leave it 
to me, my darling.” 


286 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


CHAPTER XXYI. 

LOVE VERSUS GOLD. 

“ Katharine !” 

“ Yes.” 

“ I have received the most extraordinary letter.” 

“ What about, Grizel ?” 

“What about? Had you not better ask me first 
who from ? Oh, no, you need not turn so pale. It 
is not from that paragon of your life, Rachel’s and 
Kitty’s mother.” 

“ Grizel, I do think you might speak more ten- 
derly of one who has done you no harm and who 
has suffered much.” 

“Well, well, let that pass. You want to know 
who my present correspondent is. She is no less a 
person than the mother of our heir.” 

“ Phil’s mother ! Why should she write ? She is 
in the house. Surely she can use her tongue.” 

“ She is not in the house and is therefore obliged 
to have recourse to correspondence. Listen to her 
words.” 

Miss Griselda drew out of her pocket an envelope 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


287 


which contained a sheet of thick note-paper. The 
envelope was crested ; so was the paper. The place 
from which it was written was Avonsyde ; the date 
was earl} 7 that morning. A few words in a rather 
feeble and uncertain hand filled the page. 

“ Dear Miss Lovel : I hope you and Miss Katha- 
rine will excuse me. I have made up ray mind to 
see your lawyer, Mr. Baring, in town. I know you 
intended him to come here this afternoon, but if I 
catch the early train I shall reach his office in time 
to prevent him. I believe I can explain all about 
proofs and credentials better in town than here. I 
shall come back in time to-morrow. Don’t let Phil 
be agitated. Yours humbly and regretfully, 

“ Bella Lovel.” 

“ What does she mean by putting such an extra- 
ordinary ending to her letter ?” continued Miss 
Grizel as she folded up the sheet of paper and re- 
turned it to its envelope. “ ‘ Yours humbly and 
regretfully !’ What does she mean, Katharine ?” 

“ It sounds like a woman who had a weight on 
her conscience,” said Miss Katharine. “ I wonder if 
Phil really is the heir ! You know, Grizel, she never 
showed you the tankard. She made a great talk 
about it, but you never really saw it. Don’t you 
remember ?” 

“ Nonsense 1” snapped Miss Grizel. “ Is it likely 


288 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


she would even know about the tankard if she had 
not got it ? She was ill that day. Newbolt said she 
looked quite dreadful, and I did not worry her again, 
as I knew Mr. Baring was coming down to-day to go 
thoroughly into the whole question. She certainly 
has done an extraordinary thing in writing that let- 
ter and going up to London in that stolen sort of 
fashion ; but as to Phil not being the heir, I think 
the fact of his true title to the property is pretty 
clearly established by this time. Katharine, I read 
you this letter in order to get a suggestion from you. 
I might have known beforehand that you had none 
to make. I might have known that you would only 
raise some of your silly doubts and make things 
generally uncomfortable. Well, I am displeased 
with Mrs. Lovel ; but there, I never liked her. I 
shall certainly telegraph to Mr. Baring and ask him 
to come down here this evening, all the same.” 

Miss Griselda and Miss Katharine had held their 
brief little colloquy in the old library. They now 
went into the hall, where family prayers were 
generally held, and soon afterward Miss Griselda 
sent off her telegram. She received an answer in 
the course of a couple of hours : 

“ Have not seen Mrs. Lovel. Will come down as 
arranged.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


289 


But half an hour before the dog-cart was to be 
sent to the railway station to meet the lawyer an- 
other little yellow envelope was thrust into Miss 
Lovel’s hands. It was dated from the lawyer’s cham- 
bers and ran as follows : 

“ Most unexpectedly detained. Cannot come to- 
night. Expect me with Mrs. Lovel to-morrow.” 

This telegram made Miss Griselda very angr\ r . 

“ What possible information can detain Mr. 
Baring when I summon him here?” she said to her 
younger sister. She was doomed, however, to be 
made yet more indignant. A third telegram 
arrived at Avonsyde early in the evening; it also 
w T as from Mr. Baring : 

“Disquieting news. Put off your guests. Ex- 
pect me early to-morrow.” 

Miss Griselda’s face grew quite pale. She threw 
the thin sheet of paper indignantly on the floor. 

“ Mr. Baring strangely forgets himself,” she said. 
“ Put off our guests ! Certainly not !” 

“But, Griselda,” said Miss Katharine, “our good 
friend speaks of disquieting news. It may be — it 
may be something about the little girls’ mother. 
Oh, I always did fear that something had happened 
to her I” 


290 


THE LADT OF THE FOREST. 


“Katharine, you are perfectly silly about that 
woman. But whatever Mr. Baring’s news, our 
guests are invited and they shall come. Katharine, 
I look on to-morrow as the most important day of 
my life. On that day, when I show our chosen 
and rightful heir to the world — for our expected 
guests form the world to us, Katharine — on that 
day I fulfill the conditions of my dear father's will. 
Do you suppose that any little trivial disturbance 
which may have taken place in London can alter 
plans so important as mine ?” 

“ I don’t think Mr. Baring would have telegraphed 
if the disturbance was trivial,” murmured Miss 
Katharine. But she did not venture to add any 
more and soon went sadly out of the room. 

Meanwhile Mrs. Lovel was having a terribly ex- 
citing day. Impelled by a motive stronger than 
the love of gold, she had slipped away from Phil’s 
bedside in the early morning, and, fear lending her 
wings, had gone downstairs, written her note to Miss 
Griselda, and then on foot had made her way to the 
nearest railway station at Lyndhurst Road. There 
she took the first train to London. She had a car- 
riage to herself, and she was so restless that she 
paced up and down its narrow length. It seemed 
to her that the train would never reach its destina- 
tion ; the minutes were lengthened into hours ; the 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


291 


hours seemed days. When, when would she get to 
Waterloo? When would she see Mr. Baring? Be- 
side her in the railway carriage, beside her in the 
cab, beside her as she mounted the stairs to the 
lawyer’s office was pale-faced fear. Could she do 
anything to keep the boy ? Could any — any act of 
hers cause the avenger to stay his hand— cause the 
angel of death to withdraw and leave his prey un- 
touched? In the night, as she had watched by his 
bedside, she had seen only too plainly what was 
coming. Avonsyde might be given to Phil, but 
little Phil himself was going away. The angels 
wanted him elsewhere, and they would not mind 
any amount of mother’s weeping, of mother’s groans; 
they would take the boy from her arms. Then it 
occurred to her poor, weak soul for the first time 
that perhaps if she appealed to God he would listen, 
and if she repented, not only in word, but in deed, 
he would stay his avenging hand. Hence her hur- 
ried flight ; hence her anguished longing. She had 
not a moment to lose, for the sands of her little 
boy’s life were running out. 

She was early in town, and was shown into Mr. 
Baring’s presence very soon after his arrival at his 
office. Unlike most of the heirs-presumptive to the 
Avonsyde property, Phil had not been subjected to 
the scrutiny of this keen-eyed lawyer. From the 


292 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


very first Miss Griselda had been more or less under 
a spell as regards little Phil. His mother in writing 
to her from Australia had mentioned one or two 
facts which seemed to the good lady almost con- 
clusive, and she had invited her and the boy direct 
to Avonsyde without, as in all other cases, inter- 
viewing them through her lawyer. 

Mr. Baring therefore had not an idea who his 
tall, pale, agitated-looking visitor could be. 

“ Sit down,” he said politely. “Can I assist you 
in any way ? Perhaps, if all the same to you, you 
would not object to going very briefly into matters 
to-day ; to-morrow — no, not to-morrow — Thursday I 
can carefully attend to your case. I happen to be 
called into the country this afternoon and am there- 
fore in a special hurry. If your case can wait, 
oblige me by mentioning the particulars briefly and 
making an appointment for Thursday.” 

“ My case cannot wait,” replied Mrs. Lovel in a 
hard, strained voice. “My case cannot wait an 
hour, and you need not go into the country. I 
have come to prevent your doing so.” 

“ But, madam ” 

“ I am Mrs. Lovel.” 

“ Another Mrs. Lovel ? Another heir forth- 
coming? God help those poor old ladies !” 

“ I am the mother of the boy who to-morrow is 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


293 


to be publicly announced as the future proprietor 
of Avonsyde.” 

“You ! Then you have come from Avonsyde?” 

“ I have. I have come to tell you a terrible and 
disastrous story.” 

“ My dear madam, pray don’t agitate yourself ; 
pray take things quietly. Would you like to sit in 
this easy-chair ?” 

“ No, thank you. What are easy -chairs to me ? 
I want to tell my story.” 

“ So you shall — so you shall. I trust your boy is 
not ill ?” 

“ He is very ill ; he is — good God ! I fear he is 
dying. I have come to you as the last faint chance 
of saving him.” 

“My dear Mrs. Lovel, you make a mistake. I am 
a lawyer, not a physician. Ton my word, I’m truly 
sorry for you, and also for Miss Griselda. Her 
heart is quite set on that boy.” 

“ Listen ! I have sinned. I was tempted ; I 
sinned. He is not the heir.” 

“Mv good lady, you can scarcely know what you 
are saying. You would hardty come to me with 
this story at the eleventh hour. Miss Lovel tells 
me you have proofs of undoubted succession. I was 
going to Avonsyde this afternoon to look into them, 
but only as a form — merely as a form.” 


294 


TEE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“You can look into them now ; they are correct 
enough. There were two brothers who were 
lineally descended from that Rupert Lovel who 
quarreled with his father two hundred years ago. 
The brothers’ names were Rupert and Philip. 
Philip died and left a son ; Rupert lives and has a 
son. Rupert is the elder of the brothers and his son 
is the true heir, because — because ” 

Here Mrs. Lovel rose to her feet. 

“ Because he has got what was denied to my only 
boy — glorious health and glorious strength. He 
therefore perfectly fulfills the conditions of the late 
Squire Lovel’s will.” 

“ But — but I don’t understand,” said the lawyer. 
“ I have seen — yes, of course I have seen — but pray 
tell me everything. How did you manage to bring 
proofs of your boy’s title to the old ladies ?” 

“Why should I not know the history of my 
husband’s house? I saw the old ladies’ advertise- 
ment in a Melbourne paper. I knew to what it al- 
luded and I stole a march on Rupert and his heir. 
It did not seem to me such a dreadful thing to do; 
for Rupert and his boy were rich and Phil and I 
were very poor. I stole away to England with my 
little boy, and took with me a bundle of letters and 
a silver tankard which belonged to my brother-in- 
law, but which were, I knew, equally valuable in 


THE LAV 7 OF THE FOREST 


295 


proving little Philip’s descent. All would have 
gone well but for one thing — my little boy was not 
strong. He was brave — no boy ever was braver — 
and he kept in all tokens of terrible suffering for 
my sake. He won upon the old ladies ; everybody 
loved him. All my plans seemed to succeed, and 
to-morrow he is to be appointed heir. To-morrow ! 
What use is it? God has stretched out his hand 
and is taking the boy away. He is angry. He is 
doing it in anger and to punish me. I am sorry ; 1 
am terrified ; my heart is broken. Perhaps if I 
show God that I repent he will withdraw his 
anger and spare my only boy. I have come to you. 
There is not a moment to lose. Here are the lost 
letters. Find the rightful heir.” 

Mr. Baring was disturbed and agitated. He got 
up and locked the door; he paced up and down his 
room several times ; then he came up to the woman 
who was now crouching by the table, her face hid- 
den in her hands. 

“Are you aware,” he said softly, for he feared 
the effect of his words — “are you aware that 
Rupert Lovel and his boy are now in London?” 

Mrs. Lovel raised her head. 

« I guessed it. Thank God ! then I am in time.” 

“ Your news is indeed of the most vital impor- 
tance. I must telegraph to Avonsyde. I cannot go 


296 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


there this afternoon. The whole case must be 
thoroughly investigated, and at once. I require 
your aid for this. Will you return with me to 
Avonsyde to-morrow V ’ 

“ Yes, yes.” 

“ It will be a painful exposure for you. Do you 
realize it ?” 

“ I realize nothing. I want to hold Phil to my 
heart ; that is the only desire I now possess.” 

“ Poor soul ! You have acted — I won’t say how ; 
it is not for me to preach. I will telegraph to Miss 
Griselda and then go with you to find Rupert Lovel 
and his boy.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


m 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

TWO MOTHERS. 

“ Here is a letter for you, ma’am.” 

Haney was standing by her mistress, who, in a 
traveling cloak and bonnet, had just come home. 

“For me, Haney?” said the lady of the forest in 
a tired voice. “Who can want to write to me? 
And yet, and yet — give it to me, Haney.” 

“ It has the London postmark, ma’am. Dear 
heart, how your hands do shake!” 

“ It is evening, Haney, and to-morrow will be the 
5th of May. Can you wonder that my hands shake ? 
Only one brief summer’s night, and my day of bliss 
arrives !” 

“ Read your letter, ma’am ; here it is.” 

Mrs. Lovel received the envelope with its many 
postmarks, for it had traveled about and performed 
quite a little pilgrimage since it left Avonsyde some 
days ago. Something in the handwriting caused 
her to change color ; not that it was in the ordinary 
sense familiar, but in a very extraordinary manner 
it was known and sacred. 


298 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ The ladies of Avonsyde have been true to the 
letter of their promise !” she exclaimed. “ This, 
Nancy,” opening her letter and glancing hastily 
through it, “ is the invitation I was promised six 
years ago for Rachel’s thirteenth birthday. It has 
been sent to the old, old address. The ladies have 
not forgotten ; they have kept to the letter of their 
engagement. Nancy dear, let me weep. Nancy, 
to-morrow I can make my own terms. Oh. I could 
cry just because of the lifting of the pain !” 

“ Don’t, my dear lady,” said Nancy. “ Or — yes, 
do, if it eases you. The dear little lassies will be all 
right to-morrow — won’t they, Mrs. Lovel. ?” 

“ I shall see them again, Nancy, if you mean 
that.” 

“Yes, of course; but they’ll be heiresses and 
everything — won’t they ?” 

“ Of course not. What do you mean ?” 

u I thought Master Phil had no chance now that 
the tankard is really lost and can never be found.” 

“What do you know about the tankard ?” 

“Nothing. How could I? What less likely? 
Oh ! look, ma’am ; there’s a carriage driving through 
the forest, right over the green grass, as sure as I’m 
here. Now it’s stopping, and four people are get- 
ting out — a lady and three gentlemen; and they 
are coming here— right over to the cottage as 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


299 


straight as an arrow from a bow. Oh, mercy me ! 
What do this mean ?” 

“ Only some tourists, I expect. Nancy, don’t ex- 
cite yourself.” 

“ No, ma’am, begging your pardon, they ain’t 
tourists. Here they’re all stepping into the porch. 
What do it mean ? and we has nothing at all in the 
house for supper !” 

A loud peal was now heard from the little bell. 
Nancy, flushed and agitated, went to open the door, 
and a moment later Mr. Baring, Mrs. Lovel, and 
Bupert Lovel and his son found themselves in the 
presence of the lady of the forest. Nancy, recog- 
nizing Mrs. Lovel and concluding that she had dis- 
covered all about the theft of the the tankard, went 
and hid herself in her own bedroom, from where she 
did not descend, even though she several times 
fancied she heard her mistress ring for her. 

This, however, was not the case ; for a story was 
being told in that tiny parlor which caused the very 
remembrance of Nancy to fade from all the listen- 
ers’ brains. Mrs. Lovel, little Philip’s mother, was 
the spokeswoman. She told her whole story from 
beginning to end, very much as she had told it 
twice already that day. Very much the same 
words were used, only now as she proceeded and as 
her eyes grew dim with the agony that rent her 


soo 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


heart, she was suddenly conscious of a strange and 
unlooked-for sympathy. The other mother went 
up to her side and, taking her hand, led her to a 
seat beside herself. 

“ Do not stand,” she whispered ; “ you can tell 
what you have to say better sitting.” 

And still she kept her hand within her own and 
held it firmly. By degrees the poor, shaken, and 
tempest- tossed woman began to return this firm and 
sympathizing pressure ; and when her words died 
away in a whisper, she turned suddenly and looked 
full into the face of the mysterious lady of the 
forest, 

“ I have committed a crime,” she said, “ but now 
that I have confessed all, will God spare the boy’s 
life?” 

The other Mrs. Lovel looked at her then with her 
eyes full of tears, and bending forward she sudden- 
ly kissed her. 

“ Poor mother !” she said. “I know something 
of your suffering.” 

“ Will the boy live ? Will God be good to me ?” 

“Whether he lives or dies God will be good to 
you. Try to rest on that.” 


That same evening Miss Katharine tried to 


TEE LAD Y OF THE FOREST. 


301 


soothe away some of the restlessness and anxiety 
which oppressed her by playing on the organ in the 
hall. Miss Katharine could make very wonderful 
music ; this was her one great gift. She had been 
taught well, and when her lingers touched either 
piano or organ people were apt to forget that at 
other times she was nothing but a weak-looking, 
uninteresting middle-aged lady. Seated at the 
organ, Miss Katharine’s eyes would shine with a 
strange, new radiance. There was a power, a sym- 
pathy in her touch ; her notes were seldom loud or 
martial, but they appealed straight to the innermost 
hearts of those who listened. 

Miss Katharine did not very often play. Music 
with her meant something almost as sacred as a 
sacrament ; she could not bring her melodies into 
the common every-day life; but when her soul 
burned within her, when she sought to express a 
dumb pain or longing, she went to the old organ 
for comfort. 

On this evening, as the twilight fell, she sat down 
at the organ and began to play some soft, pitiful 
strains. The notes seemed to cry, as if they were 
in pain. One by one the children stole into the hall 
and came up close to her. Phil came closest ; he 
leaned against her side and listened, his sweet brown 
eyes reflecting her pain. 


302 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ Don’t !” he said suddenly. “ Comfort us ; things 
aren’t like that.” 

Miss Katharine turned round and looked at the 
little pale-faced boy, from him to Rachel — whose 
eyes were gleaming — to Kitty, who was half-crying. 

“ Things aren’t like that,” repeated Phil. “ Play 
something true.” 

“ Things are like this,” answered Miss Katharine ; 
“ things are very, very wrong.” 

“ They aren’t,” retorted Phil. “ Any one to hear 
you would think God wasn’t good.” 

Miss Katharine paused ; her fingers trembled ; 
they scarcely touched the keys. 

“ Play joyfully,” continued Phil ; “ play as if you 
believed in him.” 

“ Oh, Phil, 1 do !” said the poor lady. “ Yes, yes, 
I will play as if I believed.” 

Tears filled her eyes. She struck the organ with 
powerful chords, and the whole little party burst 
out in the grand old chant, “ Abide with me.” 

“ Now let us sing ‘ O Paradise,’ ” said Phil when 
it was ended. 

The children had sweet voices. Miss Katharine 
played her gentlest ; Miss Griselda slipped unseen 
into the hall and sat down near Phil. The children 
sang on, hymn after hymn, Phil always choosing. 

At last Miss Katharine rose and closed the 
organ. 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


303 


“ My heart is at rest,” she said gently, and she 
stooped down and kissed Phil. Then she went out 
of the hall, Rachel and Kitty following her. Phil 
alone had noticed Miss Griselda ; he went up to her 
now and nestled down cozily by her side. He had 
a very confiding way and not a scrap of fear of any 
one. Most people were afraid of Miss Griselda. 
Phil’s total want of fear in her presence made one 
of his greatest charms for her. 

“ Wasn’t the music nice ?” he said now. “ Didn’t 
you like those hymns ? Hasn’t Rachel a beautiful 
voice ?” 

“ Rachel will sing well,” answered Miss Griselda. 
“ She must have the best masters. Philip, to-morrow 
is nearly come.” 

“ The 5th of May ? Yes, so it has.” 

“ It is a great day for you, my little boy.” 

“ Yes, I suppose it is. Aunt Griselda, when do 
you think my mother will be home?” 

“I don’t know, Philip — I don’t know where she 
has gone.” 

“I think I do. I think she’s gone, to get you a 
great surprise.” 

“ She should not have gone away to-day, when 
there was so much to be done.” 

“You won’t say that when you know. Aunt 
Grizel, you’ll always be good to mother — won’t 
you ?” 


304 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ Why, of course, dear ; she is your mother.” 

“ But even if she wasn't my mother — I mean even 
if I wasn’t there, you’d be good to her. I wish 
you’d promise me.” 

“ Of course, Phil — of course ; but as you are 
going to be very much there, there’s no use in 
thinking of impossible things.” 

Phil sighed. 

“ Aunt Griselda,” he said gently, “ do you think 
I make a very suitable heir ?” 

“ Yes, dear — very suitable.” 

“ Pm glad you love me ; I’m very, very glad. 
Tell me about the Rupert Lovel who went away 
two hundred years ago. He wasn’t really like 
me?” 

“In spirit he was, I don’t doubt.” 

“Yes; but he wasn’t like me in appearance. 
I’m small and thin and pale, and he — Aunt 
Griselda, wouldn’t your heart beat and wouldn’t 
you be glad if an heir just like the old Rupert 
Lovel came home? If he had just the same figure, 
and just the same grand flashing eyes, and just the 
same splendid strength, wouldn’t you be glad? 
Wouldn’t it be a joyful surprise to you ?” 

“ No, Phil, for my heart is set on a certain little 
pale-faced boy. Now don’t let us talk about non- 
sensical things. Come, you must have your supper 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


305 


and go to bed ; you will have plenty of excitement 
to-morrow and must rest well.” 

“ One moment, please. Aunt Grizel, tell me — tell 
me, did you ever see the lady of the forest ?” 

“ Phil, my dear child, what do you mean ?” 

“The beautiful lady who wears a green dress, 
greener than the leaves, and has a lovely face, and 
brings a gift in her hand. Did you ever see her ?” 

“ Philip, I can’t stay any longer in this dark hall. 
Of course I never saw her. There is a legend about 
her — a foolish, silly legend ; but you don’t suppose 
I am so foolish as to believe it ?” 

“ I don’t know ; perhaps it isn’t foolish. I wanted 
to see her, and I did at last.” 

“ You saw her !” 

“ In a dream. It was a real dream — I mean it 
was the kind of dream that comes true. I saw her, 
and since then everything has been quite clear to 
me. Aunt Griselda, she isn’t only the lady of the 
forest ; she has another name ; she comes to every 
one some day.” 

“Phil, you are talking very queerly. Come 
away.” 

That evening, late, Mrs. Lovel came quietly back. 
She did not ask for supper ; she did not see the old 
ladies ; she went up at once to her tower bedroom, 
where Phil was quietly sleeping. Bending down 


306 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


over the boy, she kissed him tenderly, but so gentty 
that he did not even stir. 

“ Farewell all riches; farewell all worldly success ; 
farewell even honor! Welcome disgrace and 
poverty and the reproach of all who know me if 
only I can keep you, little Phil !” 

Poor mother ! she did not know, she could not 
guess, that for some natures, such as Phil’s, there is 
no long tarrying in a world so checkered as ours. 


THE LAD T OF THE FOREST. 


307 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE LADY WHO CAME WITH A GIFT. 

A glorious day, warm, balmy, with the gentlest 
breezes blowing and the bluest, tenderest sky over- 
head. The forest trees were still wearing their 
brightest and most emerald green, the hawthorn 
was in full blossom, the horse-chestnuts were in a 
perfect glory of pink-and-white flower ; the day, in 
short, and the day’s adornments were perfect. It 
was still too early in the year for a garden-party, 
but amusements were provided for the younger 
guests in the grounds, and the whole appearance of 
Avonsyde was festive without and within. The old 
ladies, in their richest velvet and choicest lace, 
moved gracefully about, giving finishing touches to 
everything. All the nervousness and unrest which 
had characterized Miss Katharine the night before 
had disappeared. To-day she looked her gentlest 
and sweetest — perhaps also her brightest. Miss 
Griselda was really very happy, and she looked it. 
Happiness is a marvelous beautifier, and Miss Griselda 
too looked almost handsome. Her dark eyes glowed 


308 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


with some of the fire which she fancied must 
have animated those of her favorite ancestors. Her 
soft pearl-gray dress suited her well. Bachel and 
Kitty were in white and looked radiant. The 
marked characteristics of their early childhood were 
as apparent as ever : Bachel was all glowing tropical 
color and beauty ; Kitty was one of Old England’s 
daintiest and fairest little daughters. 

The guests began to arrive, and presently Mrs. 
Lovel, accompanied by Phil, came down and took 
her place in the great hall. It was here that Miss 
Griselda meant to make her little speech. Standing 
at the upper end of the hall, she meant to present 
Phil as her chosen heir to all her assembled guests. 
How strange, how very strange that Mr. Baring 
had not yet arrived ! When Mrs. Lovel entered the 
hall Miss Griselda crossed it at once to speak to her. 

“ I have given Canning directions to let you know 
the very moment Mr. Baring comes,” she said. 
“You and he can transact your business in the 
library in a few moments. Mr. Baring is sure to 
come down by the next train ; and if all your proofs 
are ready, it will not take him very long to look 
through your papers.” 

“ Everything is ready,” replied Mrs. Lovel in a 
low, hushed voice. 

“ That is right. Pardon me, how very inappro- 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


309 


priate of you to put on a black velvet dress to- 
day.” 

Mrs. Lovel turned very white. 

“It — it — is my favorite dress,” she half-stam- 
mered. “I look best in black velvet.” 

“What folly! Who thinks about their looks at 
such a moment? Black here and to-day looks 
nearly as inappropriate as at a wedding. I am not 
superstitious, but the servants will notice. Can you 
not change it?” 

“ I — I have nothing else ready.” 

“ Most inconsiderate. Kitty dear, run and fetch 
Mrs. Lovel a bunch of those crimson roses from the 
conservatory. Have at least that much color, Mrs. 
Lovel, for your boy’s sake.” 

Miss Griselda turned indignantly away, and Mrs. 
Lovel crossed over to that part of the hall where 
Phil was standing. 

“Mammy darling, how white you look!” 

“ Miss Griselda wants me to wear crimson roses 
in my dress, Phil.” 

“Oh, do, mother; they will look so nice. Here 
comes Kitty with a great bunch.” 

“ Give me one,” said Mrs. Lovel ; “ here, this 
one.” Her fingers shook ; she could scarcely take 
the flower. “Phil, will you put it into my dress? 
I won’t wear more than one ; you shall place it 


310 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


there. Child, child, the thorn has pricked me — 
every rose has a thorn.” 

“ Mother,” whispered Phil, “ you are quite sure 
of the surprise coming?” 

“Yes, darling. Hush, dear. Stay close to me.” 

The time wore on. The guests were merry ; the 
old place rang with unwonted life and mirth and 
laughter. It was many years since Avonsyde had 
been so gay. The weather was so lovely that even 
the older portion of the visitors decided to spend 
the time out of doors. They stood about in groups 
and talked and laughed and chatted. Tennis went 
on vigorously. Rachel and Kitty, like bright fairies, 
were flitting here, there, and everywhere. Phil 
was strangely quiet and silent, standing always 
close to his mother. The chaise which had been 
sent to the railway station to meet Mr. Baring re- 
turned empty. This fact was communicated by 
Canning to his mistress, and as the time wore on 
Miss Griselda’s face certainly looked less happy. 

The guests streamed in to lunch, which was 
served in the great dining-hall in the old part of the 
house. Then several boys and girls would investi- 
gate the to wer and would roam through the armory 
and the old picture-gallery. 

“That man — that Rupert Lovel is Phil’s ances- 
tor,” the boys and girls remarked. “ He is not a bit 
like Phil.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 3H 

“No; the present heir is an awfully weakly 
looking chap,” the boys said. “ Why, he doesn’t 
look as if he had strength enough even to go in for 
a game of cricket.” 

“ Oh, but he’s so interesting,” the girls said, “ and 
hasn’t he lovely eyes !” 

Then the guests wandered out again to the 
grounds and commented and wondered as to when 
the crucial moment would arrive, and when Miss 
Griselda, taking Phil's hand, would present him to 
them all as the long-sought-for heir. 

“ It is really a most romantic story,” one lady 
said. “ That little boy represents the elder branch 
of the family ; the property goes back to the elder 
branch with him.” 

“ How sad his mother seems !” remarked another ; 
“ and the boy himself looks dreadfully ill.” 

“ Miss Griselda says he is one of the most wiry 
and athletic little fellows she ever came across,” 
said a third lady. 

And then a fourth remarked in a somewhat fret- 
ful tone : 

“ I wish that good Miss Lovel would present him 
to us and get it over. One gets perfectly tired of 
waiting for one doesn’t know what.” 

Just then there was a disturbance and a little 
hush. Some fresh visitors had arrived— some visit- 


312 


THE LAD Y OF THE FOREST. 


ors who came on foot and approached through the 
forest. Miss Griselda, feeling she could wait no 
longer for Mr. Baring’s arrival, had just taken Phil’s 
hand and was leading him forward to greet her 
many guests, when the words she was about to say 
were arrested by the sudden appearance of these 
strangers on the scene. 

Mr. Baring was one of them ; but nobody noticed, 
and in their intense excitement nobody recognized, 
the sleek little lawyer. A lady, dressed quietty, 
with a gentle, calm, and gracious bearing, came 
first. At sight of her Rachel uttered a cry ; she 
was the lady of the forest. Rachel flew to her and, 
unrestrained by even the semblance of convention- 
ality, took her hand and pressed it rapturously to 
her lips. 

“At last !” half-sobbed Rachel — “ at last I see you, 
and you don’t turn away ! Oh, how I have loved 
you ! how I have loved you !” 

“And I you, my darling — my beloved.” 

“ Kitty, come here,” called out Rachel. “ Kitty, 
Kitty, this is the lady of the forest !” 

“And your mother, my own children. Come to 
my heart.” 

But nobody, not even Miss Katharine, noticed 
this reunion of mother and children ; for Miss 
Griselda’s carefully prepared speech had met with a 


THE LAD T OF THE FOREST. 313 

startling interruption. The mother had stopped 
with her children, but two other unbidden guests 
had come forward. One of them was a boy — a 
boy with so noble a step, so gallant, so gay, 
so courtly a mien that all the visitors turned 
to gaze in unspoken admiration. Whose likeness 
did he bear? Why did Miss Griselda turn so 
deadly pale ? Why did she drop Phil’s hand and 
take a step forward ? The dark eyes, the eagle 
glance, the very features, the very form of that old 
hero of her life, the long-dead-and-gone Rupert 
Lovel, now stood before her in very deed. 

“Aunt Grizel,” whispered little Phil, “isn’t he 
splendid? Isn’t he indeed the rightful heir? Just 
what he should be, so strong and so good ! Aunt 
Grizel, isn’t it a great surprise ? Mother, mother, 
speak, tell her everything !” 

Then little Phil ran up to Rupert and took his 
hand and led him up to Miss Grizel. 

“He always, always was the true heir,” he said, 
“ and I wasn’t. Oh, mother, speak !” 

Then there was a buzz of voices, a knot of people 
gathered quickly round Miss Griselda, and Phil, 
holding Rupert’s hand fast, looked again at his 
mother. The visitors whispered eagerly to one 
another, and all eyes were turned, not on the 
splendid young heir, but on the boy who held his 


314 


TEE LADY OF TEE FOREST. 


arm and looked in his face ; for a radiance seemed 
to shine on that slight boy’s pale brow which we 
see once or twice on the faces of those who are soon 
to become angels. The look arrested and startled 
many, and they gazed longer and with a deeper 
admiration at the false heir than at the true. For 
a couple of moments Mrs. Lovel had felt herself 
turning into stone ; but with Phil’s last appealing 
gaze she shook off her lethargy, and moving forward 
took her place by Miss Griselda’s side, and facing 
the anxiously expecting guests said : 

“I do it for Phil, in the hope — oh, my God ! — in 
the vain hope of saving Phil. I arranged with Mr. 
Baring that I would tell the story. I wish to 
humiliate myself as much as possible and to show 
God that I am sorry. I do it for Phil, hoping to 
save him.” 

Then she began her tale, wailing it out as if her 
heart were broken ; and the interested guests pressed 
closer and closer, and then, unperceived by any one, 
little Phil slipped away. 

“ I will go into the forest,” he said to himself. 
“ I can’t bear this. Oh, mother ! Oh, poor, poor 
mother! I will go into the forest. Everything 
will be all right now, and I feel always happy and 
at rest in the forest.” 

“Phil,” said a voice, and looking round he saw 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST 


315 


that his Cousin Rupert had followed him. “ Phil, 
you look ghastly. Do you think I care for any 
property when you look like that?” 

“ Oh, I’ll be better soon, Rupert. I’m so glad 
you’ve come in time !” 

“Where are you going now, little chap?” 

“ Into the forest. I must. Don’t prevent me.” 

“No. I will go with you.” 

“But you are wanted ; you are the real heir.” 

“ Time enough for that. I can only think of you 
now. Phil, you do look ill !” 

“ I’ll be better soon. Let us sit down at the foot 
of this tree, Rupert. Rupert, you promise to be 
good to mother?” 

“Of course. Your mother did wrong, but she is 
very brave now. You don’t know how she spoke 
to my father and me yesterday. My father never 
liked her half as much as he does now. He says 
he is going to take Aunt Bella back with him — you 
and Aunt Bella, both of you — and you are always 
to live at Belmont, and Gabrielle and Peggy will 
make a lot of you.” 

“ Pm so glad ; but I’m not going, Rupert. 
Rupert, do ask Gabrielle to be very good to 
mother.” 

“Of course. How breathless you are! Don’t 
talk — rest against me.” 


316 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 


“ Rupert, I must. Tell me about yesterday. Are 
all the links complete? Is it quite, quite certain 
that you are the heir?” 

“ Yes, quite — even the tankard has been found. 
Mrs. Lovel — the lady of the forest, you remember 
— her servant picked it up and gave it to us last 
night.” 

‘‘Did she?” answered Phil. “I thought I had 
lost it in the bog. It fretted mother. I am glad it 
is found.” 

“And do you know that the lady is Rachel’s and 
Kitty’s mother ?” 

“ Oh, how nice ! How glad Rachel will be, and 
Kitty too ! Isn’t God very good, Rupert ?” 

“Yes,” answered Rupert in a strong, manly 
young voice. 

“Rupert, you’ll be sure to love Aunt Grizel, 
won’t you ?” 

“Yes, yes. I wish you wouldn’t talk so much, 
little chap ; you look awfully ill. Do let me carry 
you home.” 

“ Ho ; let me rest here on your shoulder. Rupert, 
there is another lady of the forest. Rachel’s and 
Kitty’s mother is not the only one. I saw her in a 
dream. She is coming to me to-day ; she said so, 
Rupert.” 

“ Yes.” 


THE LADY OF THE FOREST. 317 

“I have suffered — awfully; but God has been 
very good — and I shan’t suffer any more — I’m so 
happy.” 

“Dear little chap !” 

For about ten minutes the boys were silent — 
Rupert afraid to move, his little cousin rapt in 
ecstatic contemplation. Suddenly Phil roused him- 
self and spoke with strength and energy. 

“ The lady is coming,” he said — “ there, through 
the trees ! I see her ! Don’t you ? don’t you ? She 
is coming ; she will rest me. Ob, how beautiful she 
is ! Look, Rupert, look !” 

But Rupert could see nothing, nothing at all, al- 
though Phil stretched out his arms and a radiant 
smile covered his worn little face. 

Suddenly the arms fell ; the eager words ceased ; 
only the smile remained. Rupert spoke, but ob- 
tained no answer. 

A little face, beautiful beyond all description now 
— a little face with a glory over it — lay against his 
breast, but Phil himself had gone away. 

That is the story. Sad? Perhaps so — not sad 
for Phil. 


THE END. 


) I 


A. L. Burt’s Catalogue of Books for 
Young People by Popular Writers, 52- 
58 Duane Street, New York 


BOOKS FOR GIRLS. 

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. By Lewis Carroll. 

12mo, cloth, 42 illustrations, price 75 cents. 

“From first to last, almost without exception, this story is delightfully 
droll, humorous and illustrated in harmony with the story.” — New York 
Express. 

Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Pound 

There. By Lewis Carroll. 12mo, cloth, 50 illustrations, price 75 cents. 

“A delight alike to the young people and their elders, extremely funny 
both in text and illustrations.” — Boston Express. 

Little Lucy’s Wonderful Globe. By Charlotte M. 

Yonge. 12ino, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“This story is unique among tales intended for children, alike for pleas- 
ant instruction, quaintness of humor, gentle pathos, and the subtlety with 
which lessons moral and otherwise are conveyed to children, and perhaps 
to their seniors as well.” — The Spectator. 

Joan’s Adventures at the ITorth Pole aud Elsewhere. 

By Alice Corkran. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“Wonderful as the adventures of Joan are, it must be admitted that 
they are very naturally worked out and very plausibly presented. Alto- 
gether this is an excellent story for girls.” — Saturday Review. 

Count Up the Sunny Days : A Story for Girls and Boys. 

By C. A. Jones. 12tno, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

"An unusually good children’s story.” — Glasgow Herald. 

The Dove in the Eagle’s Eest. By Charlotte M. 

Yonge. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1. 00. 

“Among all the modern writers we believe Miss Yonge first, not in 
genius, but in this, that she employs her great abilities for a high and 
noble purpose. We know of few modern writers whose works may be so 
safely commended as hers.” — Cleveland Times. 

Jan of the Windmill. A Story of the Plains. By Mrs. 

J. H. Ewing. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“Never has Mrs. Ewing published a more charming volume, and that 
is saying a very great deal. From the first t© the last the book over- 
flows with the strange knowledge of child-nature which so rarely sur- 
vives childhood; and moreover, with inexhaustible quiet humor, which 
is never anything but innocent and well-bred, never priggish, and never 
clumsy.” — Academy. 

A Sweet Girl Graduate. By L. T. Meade. 12mo, cloth. 

Illustrated, price $1.00. 

“One of this popular author’s best. The characters are well imagined 
and drawn. The story moves with plenty of spirit and the interest does 
not flag until the end too quickly comes.” — Providence Journal. 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-63 Duane Street, New York, 


A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


9 


BOOKS FOR GIRLS. 

Six to Sixteen: A Story for Girls. By Juliana 

Horatia Ewing. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“There is no doubt as to the good quality and attractiveness of ‘Six to 
Sixteen.’ The book is one which would enrich any girl’s book shelf.” — 
St. James’ Gazette. 

The Palace Beautiful: A Story for Girls. By L. T. 

Meade. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“A bright and interesting story. The many admirers of Mrs. L. T. 
Meade in this country will be delighted with the ‘Palace Beautiful’ for 
more reasons than one. It is a charming book for girls.” — New York 
Recorder. 

A World of Girls: The Story of a School. By L. T. 

Meade. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“One of those wholesome stories which it does one good to read. It 
will afford pure delight to numerous readers. This book should be on 
every girl’s book shelf.” — Boston Home Journal. 

The Lady of the Forest : A Story for Girls. By L. T. 

Meade. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“This story is written in the author’s well-known, fresh and easy style. 
All girls fond of reading will be charmed by this well-written story. It 
is told with the author’s customary grace and spirit.” — Boston Times. 

At the Back of the North Wind. By George Mac- 

donald. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“A very pretty story, with much of the freshness and vigor of Mr. Mac- 
donald’s earlier work. . . . It is a sweet, earnest, and ■wholesome fairy 

story, and the quaint native humor is delightful. A most delightful vol- 
ume for young readers.” — Philadelphia Times. 

The Water Babies: A Fairy Tale for a Land Baby. 

By Charles Kingsley. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“The strength of his work, as well as its peculiar charms, consist in 
his description of the experiences of a youth with life under water in the 
luxuriant wealth of which he revels with all the ardor of a poetical na- 
ture.” — New York Tribune. 

Our Bessie. By Rosa FT. Carey. 12mo, cloth, illus- 

strated, price $1.00. 

“One of the most entertaining stories of the season, full of vigorous 
action, and strong in character-painting. Elder girls will be charmed with 
it, and adults may read its pages with profit.” — The Teachers’ Aid. 

Wild Kitty. A Story of Middleton School. By L. T. 

Meade. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“Kitty is a true heroine — warm-hearted, self-sacrificing, and, as all 
good women nowadays are, largely touched with the enthusiasm of human- 
ity. One of the most attractive gift books of the season.” — The Academy. 

A Young Mutineer. A Story for Girls. By L. T. 

Meade. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“One of Mrs. Meade’s charming books for girl3, narrated in that simple 
and picturesque style which marks the authoress as one of the first among 
writers for young people.” — The Spectator. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of 
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York. 


price by the 


a. l. Burt’s books for young people. 


BOOKS FOR GIRLS. 


Sue and I. By Mrs. O’Reilly. 12mo, cloth, illus- 

trated, price 75 cents. 

“A thoroughly delightful book, full of sound wisdom as well as fan.”— 
Athenseum. 


The Princess and the Goblin. A Fairy Story. By 

George Macdonald. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“If a child once begins this book, it will get so deeply interested in 
it that when bedtime comes it will altogether forget the moral, and will 
weary its parents with importunities for Just a few minutes more to see 
how everything ends.” — Saturday Review. 

Pythia’s Pupils: A Story of a School. By Eva 

Hartner. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“This story of the doings of several bright school girls is sure to Interest 
girl readers. Among many good stories for girls this is undoubtedly one 
of the very best.” — Teachers’ Aid. 

A Story of a Short Life. By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 

12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

‘‘The book is one we can heartily recommend, for it is not only bright 
and interesting, but also pure and healthy in tone and teaching.” — 
Couxier. 


The Sleepy Xing. A Fairy Tale. By Aubrey Hop- 

wood and Seymour Rices. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 
“Wonderful as the adventures of Bluebell are, it must be admitted that 
they are very naturally worked out and very plausibly presented. 
Altogether this is an excellent story for girls.” — Saturday Review. 

Two Little Waifs. By Mrs. Moles worth. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“Mrs. Molesworth’s delightful story of ‘Two Little Waifs’ will charm 
all the small people who find it in their stockings. It relates the ad- 
ventures of two lovable English children lost in Paris, and is just wonder- 
ful enough to pleasantly wring the youthful heart.” — New York Tribune. 

Adventures in Toyland. By Edith King Hall. 12mo, 


' cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“The author is such a bright, cheery writer, that her stories are 
always acceptable to all who are not confirmed cynics, and her record of 
the adventures is as entertaining and enjoyable as we might expect.” — 
Eoston Courier. 

Adventures in Wallypug Land. By G. E. Farrow. 


12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“These adventures are simply inimitable, and will delight boys and girls 
of mature age, as well as their juniors. No happier combination of 
author and artist than this volume presents could be found to furnish 
healthy amusement to the young folks. The book is an artistic one in 
every sense.” — Toronto Mail. 

Fussbudget’s Folks. A Story for Young Girls. By 

Anna F. Burnham. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“Mrs Burnham has a rare gift for composing stories for children. With 
a light, yet forcible touch, she paints sweet and artless, yet natural and 
strong, characters.” — Congregationalism __________________________ 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent 

publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane 


postpaid on receipt of price by the 
Street, New York. 


4 A. L. buet's books for young people 


BOOKS FOR GIRLS. 

Mixed Pickles. A Story for Girls. By Mrs. B. M. 

Field. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“It Is. in its way, a little classic, of which the real beauty and pathos 
can hardly he appreciated by young people. It is not too much to say 
of the story that it is perfect of its kind.” — Good Literature. 

Miss Mouse and Her Boys. A Story for Girls. By 

Mrs. Molesworth. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“Mrs. Molesworth’s books are cheery, wholesome, and particularly well 
adapted to refined life. It is safe to add that she is the best English pro3e 
writer for children. A new volume from Mrs. Molesworth is ajways a 
treat.” — The Beacon. 

Grilly Blower. A Story for Girls. By the author of 

“ Miss Toosey’s Mission.” 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“Jill Is a little guardian angel to three lively brothers who tease and 
play with her. . . . Her unconscious goodness brings right thoughts 

and resolves to several persons who come into contact with her. There is 
no goodiness in this tale, but its influence is of the best kind.” — Literary 
World. 

The Chaplet of Pearls ; or, The White and Black Ribau- 

mont. By Charlotte M. Yonge. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“Full of spirit and life, so well sustained throughout that grown-up 
readers may enjoy it as much as children. It is one of the best books of 
the season.” — Guardian. 

Haughty Miss Bunny: Her Tricks and Troubles. By 

Clara Mclholland. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“The naughty child is positively delightful. Papas should not omit the 
book from their list of juvenile presents.” — Land and Water. 

Meg’s Friend. By Alice Corkran. 12mo, cloth, 

illustrated, price $1.00. 

“One of Miss Corkran’s charming hooks for girls, narrated in that simple 
and picturesque style which marks the authoress as one of the first among 
writers for young people.” — The Spectator. 

Averil. By Rosa 1ST. Carey. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, 

price $1.00. 

“A charming story for young folks. Averil is a delightful creature — 
piquant, tender, and true — and her varying fortunes are perfectly real- 
istic. ’’—World. 

Aunt Diana. By Rosa F. Carey. 12mo, cloth, illus- 

trated, price $1.00. 

“An excellent story, the interest being sustained from first to last. 
This is, both in its intention and the way the story is told, one of the 
best books of its kind which has come before us this year.” — Saturday 
Review. 

little Sunshine’s Holiday: A Picture from Life. By 

Miss Mulock. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“This is a pretty narrative of child life, describing the simple doings 
and sayings of a very charming and rather precocious child. This is a 
delightful book for young people.” — Gazette. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher, A, L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York. 


A. L. Bun^s BOOKS FOB IOUNG PEOPLE, 


BOOKS FOR GIRLS. 

Esther’s Charge. A Story for Girls. By Ellen Everett 

Green. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“ . . . This is a story showing in a charming way how one little 

girl’s jealousy and bad temper were conquered; one of the best, most 
suggestive and improving of the Christmas juveniles.” — New York Trib- 
une. 

Fairy Land of Science. By Arabella B. Buckley. 

12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

‘‘We can highly recommend it; not only for the valuable information 
it gives on the special subjects to which it is dedicated, but also as a 
book teaching natural sciences in an interesting way. A fascinating 
little volume, w’hich will make friends in every household in which there 
are children.” — Daily News. 

Merle’s Crusade. By Kosa 1ST. Carey. 12mo, cloth, 

illustrated, price $1.00. 

‘‘Among the books for yonng people we have seen nothing more unique 
than this book. Like all of this author’s stories it w T ill please yonng read- 
ers by the very attractive and charming style in which it is written.” — 
Journal. 

Birdie : A Tale of Child Life. By H. L. Childe- 

Pemberton. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

‘‘The story is quaint and simple, but there is a freshness about it 
that makes one hear again the ringing laugh and the cheery shout of chil- 
dren at play which charmed his earlier years.” — New York Express. 

The Bays of Bruce: A Story from Scottish History. 

By Grace Aguilar. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

‘‘There Is a delightful freshness, sincerity and vivacity about all of Grace 
Aguilar’s stories which cannot fail to win the interest and admiration of 
every lover of good reading.” — Boston Beacon. 

Three Bright Girls : A Story of Chance and Mischance. 

By Annie E. Armstrong. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

‘‘The charm of the story lies In the cheery helpfulness of spirit devel- 
ODed in the girls by their changed circumstances; while the author finds 
a pleasant ending to all their happy makeshifts. The story is charmingly 
told, and the book can be warmly recommended as a present for girls. — 
Standard. 

Giannetta : A Girl’s Story of Herself. By Rosa Mul- 

holland. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

‘‘Extremely well told and full of Interest. Giannetta is a true heroine — 
w r arm-hearted, self-sacrificing, and, as all good women nowadays are, 
largely touched with enthusiasm of humanity. The illustrations are un- 
usually good. One of the most attractive gift books of the season.” — The 
Academy. 

Margery Merton’s Girlliood. By Alice Corkran. 

12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

‘‘The experiences of an orphan girl who in infancy is left by her 
father to the care of an elderly aunt residing near Paris. The accounts 
of the various persons who have an after influence on the story are sin- 
gularly vivid. There is a subtle attraction about the book which will make 
it a great favorite with thoughtful girls.”— Saturday Review. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher* A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York, 


6 A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE, 


BOOKS FOR GIRLS. 

Under False Colors: A Story from Two Girls’ Lives. 

By Sarah Doudney. 12mo, doth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“Sarah Doudney has no superior as a writer of high-toned stories — pure 
In style, original in conception, and with skillfully wrought out plots; but 
tore have seen nothing equal in dramatib energy to this book.” — Christian 

Leader. 

Down the Snow Stairs; or, From Good-night to Good- 

morning. By Alice Cgreran. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“Among all the Christmas volumes which the year has brought to our 
table this one stands out facile princeps — a gem of the first water, bearing 
upon every one of its pages the signet mark of genius. . . . All is tola 

with such simplicity and perfect naturalness that the dream appears to be 
a solid reality. It Is indeed a Little Pilgrim’s Progress.” — Christian 
Leader. 


The Tapestry Hoorn: A Child’s Romance. By Mrs. 

Molesworth. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“Mrs. Molesworth is a charming painter of the nature and ways of 
children; and she has done good service in giving us this charming 
juvenile which will delight the young people.” — Athenasum, London. 

Little Miss Peggy: Only a Nursery Story. By Mrs, 

Molesworth. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

Mrs. Molesworth’s children are finished studies. A joyous earnest spirit 
pervades her work, and her sympathy is unbounded. She loves them 
with her whole heart, while she lays bare their little minds, and expresses 
their foibles, their faults, their virtues, their inward struggles, their 
conception of duty, and their instinctive knowledge of the right and wrong 
of things. She knows their characters, she understands their wants, 
and she desires to help them. 

Polly: A New Fashioned Girl. By L„ T. Meade. 

12mo, cloth, illustrated, price Si 00. 

Few authors have achieved a popularity equal to Mrs. Meade as a 
writer of stories for young girls. Her characters are lining beings of 
flesh and blood, not lay figures of conventional type. Into the trials 
and crosses, and everyday experiences, the reader enters at once with zest 
and hearty sympathy. While Mrs. Meade always writes with a high 
moral purpose, her lessons of life, purity and nobility of character are 
rather inculcated by example than intruded as sermons. 

One of a Covey. By the author of “Miss Toosey’s 

Mission. 1 ’ 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“Full of spirit and life, so well sustained throughout that grown-up 
readers may enjoy it as much as children. This ‘Covey* consists of the 
twelve children of a hard-pressed Dr. Partridge out of which is chosen a 
little girl to be adopted by a spoiled, fine lady. We have rarely read 
a story for boys and girls with greater pleasure. One of the chief char- 
acters would not have disgraced Dickens’ pen.” — Literary World. 

The Little Princess of Tower Hill. By L. T. Meade. 

12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 


“This is one of the prettiest books for children published, as pretty 
as a pond-lily, and quite as fragrant. Nothing could be imagined more 
attractive to young people than such a combination of fresh paces and 
fair pictures; and while children will rejoice over it — which is much 
better than crying for it — it is a book that can be read with pleasure 
feven by older boys and girls.” — Boston Advertiser. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher,, A. L„ EUitT, 52-58 Duane Street,, New York, 


A. L. BURT^S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 1 


BOOKS FOR GIRLS. 

Rosy. By Mas. Molesworth. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, 

price 75 cents. 

Mrs. Molesw r orth, considering the quality and quantity of her labors, 
is the best story-teller for children England has yet known. 

“This is a very pretty story. The writer knows children, and their 
ways well. The illustrations are exceedingly well drawn.”— Spectator. 

Esther : A Book for Girls. By Rosa N. Carey. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“She inspires her readers simply by bringing them in contact with the 
characters, who are in themselves inspiring. Her simple stories are woven 
in order to give her an opportunity to describe her characters by their owe 
conduct in seasons of trial.” — Chicago Times. 

Sweet Content. By Mrs. Molesworth. 12mo, cloth, 

Illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“It seems to me not at all easier to draw a lifelike child than to draw 
a lifelike man or woman: Shakespeare and Webster were the only two 
men of their age who could do it with perfect delicacy and success. 
Our own age is more fortunate, on this single score at least, having a 
larger and far nobler proportion of female writers; among whom, since 
the death of George Eliot, there is none left whose touch is so exquisite 
and masterly, whose love Is so thoroughly according to knowledge, whose 
bright and sweet invention is so fruitful, so truthful, or so delightful as 
Mrs. Molesworth’s.” — A. C. Swinbourne. 

Honor Bright ; or, The Four-Leaved Shamrock. By the 

author of “Miss Toosey’s Mission.” 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1 00. 

“It requires a special talent to describe the sayings and doing3 of 
children, and the author of ‘Honor Bright,’ ‘One of a Covey,’ possesses that 
talent in no small degree. A cheery, sensible, and healthy tale.” — The 
Times. 

The Cuckoo Clock.. By Mrs. Molesworth. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price 72 cents. 

“A beautiful little story. It will be read with delight by every child 
into whose hands it is placed. . . . The author deserves all the praise 

that has been, is, and will be bestowed on ‘The Cuckoo Clock.’ Children’s 
stories are plentiful, but one like this is not to be met with every day.” — 
Pall Mall Gazette. 

The Adventures of a Brownie. As Told to my Child. 

By Miss Mulock. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“The author of this delightful little book leaves it In doubt all through 
whether there actually is such a creature in existence as a Brownie, but 
she makes us hope that there might be.” — Chicago Standard. 

Only a Girl: A Tale of Brittany. From the French 

by C. A. Jones. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“We can thoroughly recommend this brightly written and homely nar* 
ratlve.” — Saturday Review. 

little Rosebud; or, Things Will Take a Turn. By 

Beatrice Harraden. 72mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“A most delightful little book. . . . Miss Harraden is so bright, so 

healthy, and so natural withal that the book ought, as a matter of duty, 
to be added to every girl’s library in the land.” — Boston Tra nscript. 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher. A, L. EURX, £2-58 Duane Street, New York. 


8 A. L. burt's books for young people. 


BOOKS FOR GIRLS, 

Girl Neighbors ; or, The Old Fashion and the New. By 

Sarah Tytler. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“One of the most effective and quietly humorous of Miss Tytler’s stories. 
‘Girl Neighbors’ is a pleasant comedy, not so much of errors as of preju- 
dices got rid of, very healthy, very agreeable, and very well written.— 
Spectator. 

The Little Lame Prince and His Traveling Cloak. By 

Miss Mulock. 12rao, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“No sweeter — that is the proper word — Christmas story for the little 
folks could easily be found, and it is as delightful for older readers a* 
well. There is a moral to It which the reader can find out for himself, if 
he chooses to think.” — Cleveland Herald. 

Little Miss Joy. By Emma Marshall. 12mo, cloth, 

illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“A very pleasant and instructive story, told by a very charming writer 
in such an attractive way as to win favor among its young readers. The 
illustrations add to the beauty of the book.” — Utica Herald. 

The House that Grew. A Girl’s Story. By Mrs. Moles- 

worth. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“This is a very pretty story of English life. Mrs. Molesworth is one 
of the most popular and charming of English story-writers for children. 
Her child characters are true to life, always natural and attractive, 
and her stories are wholesome and interesting.” — Indianapolis Journal. 

The House of Surprises. By L. T. Meade. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“A charming tale of charming children, who are naughty enough to be 
interesting, and natural enough to be lovable; and very prettily their story 
Is told. The quaintest yet most natural stories of child life. SimDly 
delightful.”— Vanity Fair. 

The Jolly Ten: and their Year of Stories. By Agnes 

Carr Sage. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

The story of a band of cousins who were accustomed to meet at the 
“Pinery,” with “Aunt Roxy.” At her fireside they play merry games, 
have suppers flavored with innocent fun, and listen to stories — each with 
its lesson calculated to make the ten not less jolly, but quickly re- 
sponsive to the calls of duty and to the needs of others. 

Little Miss Dorothy. The Wonderful Adventures of 

Two Little People. By Martha James. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75c. 
“This is a charming little Juvenile story from the pen of Mrs. James, 
detailing the various adventures of a couple of young children. Their 
many adventures are told in a charming manner, and the book will 
please young girls and boys.” — Montreal Star. 

Pen’s Venture. A Story for Girls. By Elvirton 

Wright. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

Something Pen saw in the condition of the cash girls in a certain store 
gave her a thought; the thought became a plan; the plan became a ven- 
ture Pen s venture. It is amusing, touching, and instructive to read about 


For sale by »U booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by tbe 
publisher, A. L. BURT, 62-59 Duane Street, New York. 


A. L. BURIES BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE, 


9 


FAIRY BOOKS. 

The Blue Fairy Book. Edited by Andrew Lang. Pro- 

fusely illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

“The tales are simply delightful. No amount of description can do 
them Justice. The only way is to read the book through from cover to 
cover.” — Book Review. 

The Green Fairy Book. Edited by Andrew Lang* 

Profusely illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. 

“The most delightful book of fairy tales, taking form and contents to 
gether, ever presented to children.”— E. S. Hartland, in Folk-Lore. 

The Yellow Fairy Book. Edited by Andrew Lang c 

Profusely illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price $1.00. t 

“As a collection of fairy tales to delight children of all ages, it ranks 
second to none.” — Daily Graphic. 

The Red Fairy Book. Edited by Andrew Lang. Pro- 

fusely illustrated, 12mo, cloth, price S1.C0, 

“A gift-book that will charm any child, and all older folk, who have 
been fortunate enough to retain their taste for the old nursery stories.”— 
Literary World. 

Celtic Fairy Tales. Edited by Joseph Jacobs. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“A stock of delightful little narratives gathered chiefly from the Celtic- 
speaking peasants of Ireland. A perfectly lovely book. And oh! the 
wonderful pictures Inside. Get this book if you can: it is capital, all 
through.”— Pall Mall Budget. 

English Fairy Tales. Edited by Joseph Jacobs. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“The tales are simply delightful. No amount of description can do 
them justice. The only way is to read the book through from cover to 
cover. The book is intended to correspond to ‘Grimm’s Fairy Tales,’ 
and it must be allowed that its pages fairly rival In Interest those of 
that well-known repository of folk-lore.” — Morning Herald. 

Indian Fairy Tales. Edited by Joseph Jacobs. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“Mr. Jacobs brings home to us In a clear and intelligible manner the 
enormous influence which ‘Indian Fairy Tales’ have had upon European 
literature of the kind. The present combination will be welcomed not 
aloD® by the little ones for whom It Is specially combined, but also by 
children of larger growth and added years.” — Daily Telegraph. 

Jlousehold Fairy Tales. By the Brothers Grimm 0 

12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“As a collection of fairy tales to delight children of aU ages thi® 
work ranks second to none.” — Daily Graphio. 

Fairy Tales and Stories. By Hans Christian Ander- 

sen. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“If I were asked to select a child’s library I should name these three 
volumes, ‘English, ’ ‘Celtic,’ and ‘Indian Fairy Tales,’ with Grimm and 
Hans Andersen’s Fairy Tales.” — Independent. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of prloe by th* 
publisher, A, L. BUST, 52*1$ Duane Street, New York. 


10 A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE, 


FAIRY BOOKS. 

Popular Fairy Tales. By the Brothebs Grimm. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“From first to last, almost without exception, these stories are delight- 
ful. ’ ’ — Athenaeum, 

Icelandic Fairy Tales. By A. W. Hall. 12mo, cloth, 

illustrated, price $1.00. 

“The most delightful book of fairy tales, taking form and contents to- 
gether, ever presented to children. The whole collection Is dramatic and 
humorous. A more desirable child’s book has not been seen for many a 
day.” — Daily News. 

Fairy Tales From the Far North. (Norwegian.) By 

P. C. Asbjornsen. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“If we were asked what present would make a child happiest at Christ-' 
mastide we think we could with a clear conscience point to Mr. Jacobs’ 
book. It is a dainty and an interesting volume.” — Notes and Queries. 

Cossack Fairy Tales. By R. Nisbet Bain. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“A really valuable and curious selection which will be welcomed by 
readers of all ages. . . . The illustrations by Mr. Batten are often 

clever and irresistibly humorous. A delight alike to the young people 
and their elders.” — Globe. 

The Golden Fairy Book. By Various Authors. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, px-ice $1.00. 

“The most delightful book of Its kind that has come In our way for 
many a day. It is brimful of pretty stories. Retold in a truly deightful 
manner. ’ ’ — Graphic. 

The Silver Fairy Book. By Various Authors. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“The book is intended to correspond to ‘Grimm’s Fairy Tales,” and It 
must be allowed that Its pages fairly rival in interest those of the well- 
known repositosy of folk-lore. It is a most delightful volume of fairy 
tales.” — Courier, 

The Brownies, and Other Stories. By Juliana Horatia 

Ewing. 12ino, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“Like all the books she has written this one Is very charming, and 
Is worth more in the hands of a child than a score of other stories of a 
more sensational character.” — Christian at Work. 

The Hunting of the Snark. An Agony in Eight Fits. 

By Lewis Carroll,, author of “Alice in Wonderland.” 12mo, cloth, illus- 
trated, price 75 cents. 

“This glorious piece of nonsense. « . . Everybody ought to read It 

— nearly everybody will — and all who deserve the treat will scream with 
laughter.” — Graphic. 

lob Lie-By-the-fire, and Other Tales. By Juliana 

Horatio Ewing. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. >• 

“Mrs. Ewing has written as good a story as her ‘Brownies,’ and that 
Is saying a great deal. ‘Lob Lie-by-the-fire’ has humor and pathos, and 
teaches what is right without making children think they are reading a 
sermon.” — Saturday Review. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York. 


A. Xu BURT^S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 11 


"»<»■■ — - _ _ 

BOOKS FOR BOYS. 

By Right of Conquest; or, With Cortez in Mexico* 

By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by W. S. Stacey. 12mo, cloth, 

olivine edges, price $1.50. 

“The conquest of Mexico by a small band of resolute men under the 
magnificent leadership of Cortez is always rightfully ranked among the most 
romantic and daring exploits in history. 4 By Right of Conquest’ is the 
neaiest approach to a perfectly successful historical tale that Mr. Henty 
has yet published.” — Academy. 

For 2tfame and Fame; or, Through Afghan Passes. 

By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo, cloth 
olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“Not only a rousing story, replete with all the varied forms of excite 
ment of a campaign, but, what is still more useful, an account of a 
territory and its inhabitants which must for a long time possess a supreme 
Interest for Englishmen, as being the key to our luaian Empire.' ’ — ‘ 
Glasgow Herald. 

The Bravest of the Brave; or. With Peterborough in 

Spain. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by H. M. Paget. 12mo 
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“Mr. Henty never loses sight of the moral purpose of his work — to 
enforce the doctrine of courage and truth, mercy and loving kindness, 
as indispensable to the making of a gentleman. Boys will read ‘The 
Bravest of the Brave’ with pleasure and profit; of that we are quite 
sure.” — Daily Telegraph. 

The Cat of Bubastes : A Story of Ancient Egypt. By 

G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00 
“The story, from the critical moment of the killing of the sacred cat 
to the perilous exodus into Asia with which it closes, is very skillfully 
constructed and full of exciting adventures. It Is admirably illustrated.” 
— Saturday Review. 

Bonnie Prince Charlie: A Tale of Fontenoy and Cul- 

loden. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo, 
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“Ronald, the hero, is very like the hero of ‘Quentin Durward.’ The 
lad’s journey across France, and his hairbreadth escapes, makes up as 
good a narrative of the kind as we have ever read. For freshness of 
treatment and variety of incident Mr. Henty has surpassed himself.” — 
Spectator. 

With Clive in India; or. The Beginnings of an Empire. 

By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo, cloth, 
olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“He has taken a period of Indian history of the most vital Impor- 
tance, and he has embroidered on the historical facts a story which of 
itself is deeply interesting. Young people assuredly will be delighted 
with the volume.” — Scotsman. 

In the Reign of Terror: The Adventures of a West- 
minster Boy. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by J. Schonberg. 
12mo, cloth, olivino edges, price $1,00. 

“Harry Sandwith, the Westminster boy, may fairly be said to beat 
Mr. Henty’s record. His adventures will delight boys by the audacity 
and peril they depict. The story is one of Mr. Henty’s best.” — Saturday 
Review. _____ 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher, A. L. BURT, 62-58 Duane Street, Hew York, 


'ML E. BUitrS BOOKS FOB YOUNG PEOPLE, 


BOOKS FOR BOYS. 


The Lion of the North: A Tale of Gustavus Adolphus 

and the Wars of Religion. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by John 
Schonberg. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“A praiseworthy attempt to interest British youth in the great deeds 
of the Scotch Brigade in the wars of Gustavus Adolphus. Mackey, Hep- 
burn, and Munro live again in Mr. Henty’s pages, as those deserve to 
live whose disciplined hands formed really the germ of the modem 
British army.” — Athenaum. 

The Dragon and the Raven; or, The Days of King 

Alfred. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by C. J. Staniland. 12mo. 
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

In this story the author gives an account of the fierce struggle be«^ 
tween Saxon and Dane for supremacy in England, and presents a vivid 
picture of the misery and ruin to which the country was reduced by the 
ravages of the sea-wolves. Th« story is treated in a manner most at« 
tractive to the boyish reader.” — Athenaeum, 

The Young Carthaginian: A Story of the Times of 

Hannibal. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by C. J, Staniland. 12mo, 
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“Well constructed and vividly told. From first to last nothing stays 
the interest of the narrative. It bears us along as on a stream whose 
current varies in direction, but never loses its force.” — Saturday Review. 

In Freedom’s Cause: A Story of Wallace and Bruce. 

By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo, cloth, 
olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“It is written in the author’s best style. Full of the wildest and most 
remarkable achievements, it is a tale of great interest, which a boy, once 
he has begun it, will not willingly put one side.” — The Schoolmaster. 

With Wolfe in Canada; or, The Winning of a Con- 
tinent. Bv G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo, 
cloth, olivme edges, price $1.00. 

“A model of what a boys’ story-book should be. Mr. Henty has a 
great power of infusing into the dead facts of history new life, and as 
no pains are spared by him to ensure accuracy in historic details, his 
books supply useful aids to study as well as amusement.” — School Guards 
lan. 


True to the Old Flag: A Tale of the American War of 


Independence. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 
12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“Does justice to the pluck and determination of the British solidera 
daring the unfortunate struggle against American emancipation. The soa 
of an American loyalist, who remains true to our flag, falls among the 
hostile red-skins in that very Huron country which has been endeared 
to us by the exploits of Hawkeye and Chingachgook.” — The Times. 

A Final Reckoning: A Tale of Bush Life in Aus- 
tralia. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by W. B. Wolden. 12mo, 
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“All boys will read this story with eager and unflagging interest. The 
episodes are in Mr. Henty’s very best vein — graphic, exciting, realistic; 
and, as in all Mr. Henty’s books, the tendency is to the formation of an 
honorable, manly, and even heroic character.” — Birmingham Post. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of nrice bv the 
oublisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York 


A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 18 

BOOKS FOR BOYS. — - 

The Lion of St. Mark: A Tale of Venice in the Four- 
teenth Century. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browns. 
12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price Si. 00. 

“Every boy should read ‘The Lion of St. Mark.’ Mr. Henty has never 

S roduced a story more delightful, more wholesome, or more vivacious.”— 
aturday Review. 

Facing Death; or. The Hero of the Vaughan Pit. A 

Tale of the Coal Mines. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon 
Browne. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“The tale is well written and well illustrated, and there is much 
reality in the characters. If any father, clergyman, or schoolmaster 
Is on the lookout for a good book to give as a present to a boy who te 
worth his salt, this is the book we would recommend.” — Standard. 

Maori and Settler: A Story of the Hew Zealand War. 

By G. A. Henty. With Illustrations by Alfred Pearse. 12mo, clothe 
olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“In the adventures among the Maoris, there are many breathless 
moments in which the odds seem hopelessly against the party, but they 
succeed in establishing themselves happily in one of the pleasant New 
Zealand valleys. It is brimful of adventure, of humorous and interesting 
conversation, and vivid pictures of colonial life.” — Schoolmaster. 

One of the 28th: A Tale of Waterloo. By G. A. 

Henty. With illustrations by W. H. Overend. 12mo, cloth, olivine 
edges, price $1.00. 

“Written with Homeric vigor and heroic inspiration. It is graphic, 

S icturesque, and dramatically effective . . . shows us Mr. Henty at 

is best and brightest. The adventures will hold a boy enthralled as he 
rushes through them with breathless interest ‘from cover to cover.’ ” — ■ 

Observer. 

Orange and Green: A Tale of the Boyne and Limer- 
ick. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo, 
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“The narrative is free from the vice of prejudice, and ripple9 with 
life as if what is being described were really passing before the eye.”— 
Belfast News-Letter. 

^Through the Fray: A Story of the Luddite Biots. 

; By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by H. M. Paget. 12mo, cloth, olivine 
edges, price $1.00. 

“Mr. Henty inspires a love and admiration for straightforwardness, truth 
iand courage. This is one of the best of the many good books Mr. 
Henty has produced, and deserves to be classed with his ‘Facing Death.’ ” 
— Standard. 

The Young Midshipman: A Story of the Bombard- 
ment of Alexandria. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges* 
price $1.00. 

A coast fishing lad, by an act of heroism, secures the interest of 
a shipowner, who places him as an apprentice on board one of his ships. 
In company with two of his fellow-apprentices he is left behind, at 
Alexandria, in the hands of the revolted Egyptian troops, and is present 
through the bombardment and the scenes of riot and bloodshed which 
accompanied it. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher, JL L. BURT, 52-53 Duane Street, New York. 


M A. L. BORINS BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPL1. 

_______ _ , . — '~ l 

BOOKS FOR BOYS. 

In Times of Peril. A Tale of India. By G. A. 

Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

The hero of the story early excites our admiration, and is altogether 
a fine character such as boys will delight in, whilst the story of the 
campaign is very graphically told.” — St. James’s Gazette. 

The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough’s Wars. 

By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1. 

‘‘Mr. Hentv not only concocts a thrilling tale, he weaves fact and fiction 
together with so skillful a hand that the reader cannot help acquiring a 
just and clear view of that fierce and terrible struggle known as the 
Crimean War.” — Athenaeum. 

The Young Franc-Tireurs : Their Adventures in the 

Franco-Prussian War. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo s cloth, 
olivine edges, price $1.00. 

‘ C A capital book for boys. It is bright and readable, and full of good 
sense and manliness. It teaches pluck and patience in adversity, and 
shows that right living leads to success.” — Observer. 

The Young Colonists: A Story of Life and War in 

South Africa. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine 
edges, price $1.00. 

‘‘No boy needs to have any story of Henty’3 recommended to him, and 
parents who do not know and buy them for their boys should be ashamed 
of themselves. Those to whom he is yet unknown could not make a 
better beginning than with this book. 

The Young Buglers. A Tale of the Peninsular War. 

By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1. 
‘‘Mr. Henty is a giant among boys* writers, and his books are suffi- 
ciently popular to be sure of a welcome anywhere. In stirring interest, 
this is quite up to the level of Mr. Henty’s former historical tales.”— 
Saturday Review. 

Sturdy and Strong; or, How George Andrews Made his 

Way. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, 
price $1.00. 

‘‘The history of a hero of everyday life, whose love of tr th, clothing of 
modesty, and innate pluck, carry him, naturally, from poverty to afflu- 
ence. George Andrews is an example of character with nothing to cavil 
at, and stands as a good instance of chivalry in domestic life.” — The 
Empire. 

Among Malay Pirates. A Story of Adventure and 

Peril. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, 
price $1.00. 

“Incident succeeds incident, and adventure i3 piled upon adventure, 
and at the end the reader, be he boy or man, will have experienced 
breathless enjoyment in a romantic story that must have taught him 
much at its close.” — Army and Navy Gazette. 

Jack Archer. A Tale of the Crimea. By G. A. 

Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

‘‘Mr. Henty not only concocts a thrilling he weaves fact and fiction 
together with so skillful a hand that the reader cannot help acquiring a 
just and clear view of that fierce and terrible struggle.” — Athemeum. 

— ■ - ■■ M 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher. A, L, BUST, 52-58 Duane Street, New York 


A. L. BURT’S BOOKS FOB YOUNG PEOPLE. 15 

BOOKS FOR BOYS. 

Friends, Though Divided. A Tale of the Civil War. 

By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1, 
“It has a good plot; It abounds in action; the scenes are equally spirited 
and realistic, and we can only say we have read it with much pleasure 
from first to last.”— Times. 

Out on the Pampas; or, The Young Settlers. By 

G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“A really noble story, which adult readers will find to the full as satis- 
fying as the boys. Lucky boys! to have such a caterer as Mr. G. A, 
Henty.” — Black and White. 

The Boy Knight : A Tale of the Crusades. By G. A c 

Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00. 

“Of stirring episode there is no lack. The book, with its careful accu- 
racy and its descriptions of all the chief battles, will give many a school- 
boy his first real understanding of a very important period of history.”— 
St. James’s Gazette. 

The Wreck of the Golden Fleece. The Story of a North 

Sea Fisher Boy. By Robert Leighton. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1. 

A description of life on the wild North Sea. — the hero being a parson’s 
son who is appreciated on board a Lowestoft fishing lugger. The lad has 
to suffer many buffets from bis shipmates, while the storms and dangers 
which he braved on board the “North Star” are set forth with minute 
knowledge and Intense power. The wreck of the “Golden Fleece” forms 
the climax to a thrilling series of desperate mischances. 

Olaf the Glorious. A Story of the Viking Age. By 

Robert Leighton. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1 .00. 

This story of Olaf the Glorious, King of Norway, opens with the incident 
of his being found by his uncle living as a bond-slave in Esthonia; then 
come his adventures as a Viking and his raids upon the coasts of Scot- 
land and England, his victorious battle against the English at Maldon in 
Essex, his being bought off by Ethelred the Unready, and his conversion 
to Christianity. He then returns to Pagan Norway, is accepted as king, 
and converts his people to the Christian faith. 

To Greenland and the Pole. A story of Adventure in 

the Arctic Regions. By Gordon Stables. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1. 

The unfailing fascination of Arctic venturing is presented in this s^ory 
■with new vividness. It deals with skilobning in the north of Scotland, 
deer-hunting in Norway, sealing in the Arctic Seas, bear-stalking on the 
Ice-floes, the hardships of a journey across Greenland, and a successful 
voyage to the back of the North Pole. This is. Indeed, a real sea-yarn 
by a real sailor, and the tone is as bright and wholesome as the adventures 
are numerous. 

Yussuf the Guide. A Story of Adventure in Asia 

Minor. By George Manvillk Fenn. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price §1.00, 
This story deals with the stirring incidents in the career of a lad who has 
been almost given over by the doctors, but who rapidly recovers health 
and strength in a journey through Asia Minor. The adventures are many, 
and culminate in the travellers being snowed up for the winter In the 
mountains, from which they escape while their captors are waiting for 
the ransom that does not come. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York. 


1G A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE, 


BOOKS FOR BOYS. 

Grettir the Outlaw. A Story of Iceland. By S. Bar- 

ing-Godld. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1-00. 

“This is the boys’ book of the year. That is, of course, as much as 
to say that it will do for men grown as well as Juniors. It is told in 
simple, straightforward English, as all stories should be, and It has a 
freshness and freedom which make it irresistible.” — National Observer. 

Two Thousand Years Ago. The Adventures of a 

Roman Boy. By A. J. Church. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“Prof. Church has in this story sought to revivify that most interesting 1 
period, the last days of the Roman Republic. The book is extremely en- 
tertaining as well as useful: there is a wonderful freshness in the Roman 
scenes and characters.” — Times. 

Hat the Naturalist. A Boy's Adventure in the East" 

ern Seas. By George Manvtlle Fenn. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price >1. 

Nat and his uncle Dick go on a voyage to the remoter islands of the 
Eastern seas, and their adventures are told In a truthful and vastly in- 
teresting fashion. The descriptions of Mr. Ebony, their black comrade, 
and of the scenes of savage life, are full of genuine humor. 

The Log of the Flying Fish. A Story of Peril and 

Adventure. By Harry Collingwood. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1. 

“This story is full of even more vividly recounted adventures than those 
which charmed so many boy readers in ‘Pirate Island’ and ‘Congo Rovers.’ 
. . . There is a thrilling adventure on the precipices of Mount Everest, 

when the ship floats off and providentially returns by force of ‘gravita- 
tion.’ ” — Academy. 

The Congo Rovers. A Story of the Slave Squadron. 

By Harry Collingwood. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“The scene of this tale is laid on the west coast of Africa, and in the 
lower reaches of the Congo; the characteristic scenery of the great river 
being delineated with wonderful accuracy. Mr. Collingwood carries us off 
for another cruise at sea, in ‘The Congo Rovers,' and boys will need no 
pressing to join the daring crew, which seeks adventures and meets with 
any number of them.” — The Times. 

Boris the Bear Hunter. A Tale of Peter the Great and 


His Times. By Fred Wish aw. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“This is a capital story. The characters are marked and lifelike, and it 
is full of incident and adventure.” — Standard. 

Michael Strogoff; or, The Courier of the Czar. By 

Jules Verne. i2mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“The story Is full of originality and vigor. The characters are lifelike, 
there is plenty of stirring incident, the interest is sustained throughout, 
and every boy will enjoy following the fortunes of the hero.” — Journal of 
Education. 

Mother Carey’s Chicken. Her Voyage to the Unknown 

Isle. By George Manville Fenn. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

j/l^M&^tedly one °* * be best Mr * Fenn written. The Incidents are 
of thrilling interest, while the characters are drawn with a care and com- 
pleteness rarely found in a boy’s book.” — Literary World. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent 

publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane 


Street, 


on of Price by the 


A. L. BTJRT'S BOOKS FOB YOUNG PEOPLE. 17 


BOOKS FOR BOYS. 

Dick Sand; or, A Captain at Fifteen. By Jules 

Verne. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 81.00. 

“Jules Verne himself never constructed a more marvellous tale. It con- 
tains the strongly marked features that are always conspicuous in his 
stories — a racy humor, the manly vigor of his sentiment, and wholesome 
moral lessons.” — Christian Leadsr. 

Erling the Bold. A Tale of the Norse Sea Kings. 

By R. M. Ballantyne. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“This volume makes a really fascinating book, worthy of its telling 
title. There is, we venture to say, not a dull chapter in the book, not 
a page which will not bear a second reading.” — Guardian. 

Masterman Ready; or, The Wreck of the Pacific. By 

Captain Marryat. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“As racy a tale of life at sea and adventure as we have met with for 
some time. . . . Altogether the sort of book that boys will revel in.” 

— Athenaeum. 

The Green Mountain Boys. A Tale of the Early Set- 

tlement of Vermont. By D. P. Thompson. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1. 

A story of very great interest for boys. In his own forcible style the 
author has endeavored to show that determination and patriotic enthu- 
siasm can accomplish marvellous results. This story gives a graphic ac- 
count of the early settlers of Vermont, and their patriotic efforts in de- 
fending their homes from the invasions of enemies. 

Every Inch a Sailor. By Gordon Stables. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“A story which is quite as good in its way as ‘Treasure Island,’ and is 
full of adventure of a stirring yet most natural kind. Although it is 
primarily a boys’ book, it is a real godsend to the elderly reader.” — 
Evening Times. 

The Golden Galleon. A Narrative of Adventure on 

Her Majesty’s Ship the Revenge. By Robert Leighton. 12mo, cloth, 
illustrated, price $1.00. 

“This story should add considerably to Mr. Leighton’s high reputation. 
Excellent in every respect, it contains every variety of incident. The plot 
is very cleverly devised, and the types of the North Sea sailors are 
capital.” — The Times. 

The Gorilla Hunters. A Tale of the Wilds of Africa. 

By R. M. Baloantyne. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“We conscientiously belive that boys will find it capital reading. It is 
full of incident and mystery, and the mystery is kept up to the last 
moment. It is full of stirring adventure, daring and many escapes; and 
it has a historical interest.” — Times. 

Gascoyne the Sandalwood Trader. By R. M. Bal- 

lantyne. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“One of the best stories of seafaring life and adventure which have 
appeared this season. Entertaining in the highest degree from beginning 
to end, and full of adventure which is aU the livelier for its close con- 
nection with history.” — Spectator. ^ _ 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York. 


f 


18 A. L. burt's books for young people, 


BOOKS FOR BOYS. 

Two Years Before the Mast. A Personal Narrative of 

Life at Sea. By R. H. Dana, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“One of the very best books for boys that we have seen for a long time: 
its author stands far in advance of any other writer for boys as a teller 
of stories of the sea.” — The Standard. 

The Young Bajah. A Story of Indian Life. By W. 

H. G. Kingston. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“This story will place the author at once in the front rank. It is full 
of life and adventure, and the interest is sustained without a break from 
first to last.” — Standard. 

How Jack Mackenzie Won His Epaulettes. A Story 

of the Crimean War. By Gordon Stables. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, 
price $1.00. 

“This must rank among the few undeniably good boys’ books. He 
will be a very dull boy indeed who lays it down without wishing that 
it had gone on for at least 100 pages more.” — Mail. 

The King’s Pardon. A Story of Land and Sea. By 

Robert Overton. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“An excellent story, the interest being sustained from first to last. 
This is, both in its intention and the way the story is told, one of the 
best books of its kind which has come before us this year.” — Saturday 
Review. 

Under the Lone Star. A Story of the Revolution in 

Nicaragua. By Herbert Haynes. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 

“We have not of late come across a historical fiction, whether intended 
for boys or for men, which deserves to be so heartily and unreservedly 
praised as regards plot, incidents, and spirit as this book. It is its au- 
thor’s masterpiece as yet.” — Spectator. 

Geoff and Jim: A Story of School Life. By Ismay 

Thorn. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“This is a prettily told story of the life spent by two motherless bairns 
at a small preparatory school. Both Geoff and Jim are very lovable char- 
acters, only Jim is the more so; and the scrapes he gets into and the 
trials he endures will, no doubt, interest a large circle of young readers.” 
—Church Times. 

Jack: A Topsy Turvy Story. By C. M. Crawley- 

Boevey. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“The illustrations deserve particular mention, as they add largely to 
the interest of this amusing volume for children. Jack falls asleep with 
his mind full of the subject of the fishpond, and is very much surprised 
presently to find himself an inhabitant of Waterworld, where he goes 
through wonderful and edifying adventures. A handsome and pleasant 
book.” — Literary World. 

Black Beauty. The Autobiography of a Horse. By 

Anna Sewell. l2mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

This is the life story of a horse; how he was ill treated and weU 
cared for. The experiences of Black Beauty, Ginger, and Merrylegs are 
extremely interesting. Wherever children are, whether boys or girls, there 
this Autobiography should be. It inculcates habits of kindness to all mem- 
bers of the animal creation. The literary merit of the book is excellent. 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by tha 
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-5$ Duane Street, New York. 


a. l. Burt’s books for young people. 19 


BOOKS FOR BOYS. 

]&opsa the Fairy. By Jean Ingelow. 12mo, cloth, 

illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“Mrs. Ingelow is, to our mind, the most charming of all living writers 
for children, and ‘Mopsa’ alone ought to give her a kind of pre-emptive 
right to the love and gratitude of our young folks. It requires genius 
to conceive a purely imaginary work which must of necessity deal with 
the supernatural, without running into a mere riot of fantastic absurdity; 
but genius Mrs. Ingelow has, and the story of ‘Jack* is as careless and 
joyous, but as delicate as a picture of childhood.” — Eclectic. 

Carrots: Just a Little Boy. By Mrs. Molesworth. 

12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“One of the cleverest and most pleasing stories it has been our good 
fortune to meet with for some time. Carrots and his sister are delight- 
ful little beings, whom to read about is at once to become very fond of. 
A genuine children's book; we’ve seen ’em seize it, and read it greedily. 
Children are first-rate critics, and thoroughly appreciate Walter Crane’s 
Illustrations. ’ ’ — Punch. 

Larry’s Luck. By the author of ‘‘Miss Toosey’s Mis- 

sion.” 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“It is believed that this story, by this favorably known author of 
‘Miss Toosey’s Mission,’ will be found both highly interesting and instruc- 
tive to the young. Whether the readers are nine years old, or twice as 
old, they must enjoy this pretty volume.” — The Examiner. 

A Child’s Christmas: A Sketch of Boy Life. By Mrs. 

Molesworth. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“This is another of those delightful juvenile stories of which this author 
has written so many. It is a fascinating little book, with a charming 
plot, a sweet, pure atmosphere, and teaches a wholesome moral in the 
most winning manner.” — Gazette. 

Chunk, Fusky and Snout. A Story of Wild Pigs for 

Little People. By Gerald Young. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“The story is an extremely interesting one, full of incident, told in a 
quiet, healthful way, and with a great deal of pleasantly interfused 
information about wild pigs and their ways. It is sure to interest both 
boys and girls.” — Christian Union. 

Baddy’s Boy. By L. T. Meade. 12mo, cloth, illus- 

trated, price 75 cents. 

“A charming story of child life. Little Sir Rowland is one of the 
most fascinating of the misunderstood child heroes of the day. The quaint 
doings and imaginings of this gentle, lovable, but highly original child are 
introduced by Mrs. Meade, with all her accustomed pathos.” — Guardian. 

Adventures of Prince Prigio. By Andrew LanGo 

12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“This book has so much charm of style and good writing that it will be 
eagerly read by many other than the young folk for whom it is intended.” 
— Black and White. 

A Flock of Four. A Story for Boys and Girls. By 

I 3 MA 5 T Thorn. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“As a gift book for boys it is among the best new books of the kind. 
The story is interesting and natural, from first to last.” — Gazette. 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher, A. L. EURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York. 


20 A. L. BURT’S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE, 


BOOKS FOR BOYS. 

A Flat Iron for a Farthing. The Story of an Only 

Son. By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 12mo, cloth, Illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“A very good book it is, full of adventure, graphically told. The style 
is just what it should be; simple but not bold, full of pleasant bumor, 
ana with some pretty touches of feeling. Like all Mrs. Ewing’s tales, 
it is sound, sensible, and wholesome.” — Times. 

The Greek Heroes. Fairy Tales for My Children. By 

Charles Kingsley. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“We do not think these heroic stories have ever been more attractively 
told. . . There is a deep under-current of religious feeling traceable 

throughout its pages which is sure to influence young readers power- 
fully. One of the children’s books that will surely become a classic.”— 
London Review. 

Jackanapes. By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

‘‘This is one of Mrs. Ewing’s charming little stories for young children. 
The narrative ... is full of interest for its real grace and delicacy, 
and the exquisiteness and purity of the English in which it is written.” — 
Boston Advertiser. 


Princess and Curdie. By George Macdonald. 12mo, 

cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

‘‘One of the cleverest and most pleasing stories it has been our good 
fortune to meet with for some time. The Princess and Curdie are delight- 
ful little beings, whom to read about is at once to become very fond of.” 
—Examiner. 

Peter the Pilgrim. The Story of a Boy and His Pet 

Rabbit. By L. T. Meade. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

"Little Peter, with his soft heart, clever head, and brave spirit is no 
morbid presentment of the angelic child ‘too good to live,’ and who is 
certainly a nuisance on earth, but a charming creature, if not a por- 
trait, whom it is a privilege to meet even in fiction.” — The Academy. 

We and the World. A Story for Boys. By Juliana 

Horatia Ewing. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

‘‘The author has evidently studied the ways and tastes of children and 
got at the secret of amusing them; and has succeeded in what is not 
so easy a task as it may seem — in producing a really good children’s 
book.” — Daily Telegraph. 


little Ivan's Hero. A Story of Child Life. By 

Helen Milman. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

‘‘We should imagine those queer folk indeed who could not read this 
with eager interest and pleasure, be they boys or girls, young or 
old. vv e highly commend the style in which the book is written, and the 
spirit which pervades it.” — World. 


Dick, Marjorie and Fidge. The Wonderful Adventures 

of Three Little People. By G. E. Farrow. 12mo, cloth, illust’d, price 75c. 

• • • To the young, for whom it is especially intended, this is a 

most interesting book of adventures, well told, and a pleasant book to 
take up when their wish is to while away a weary half-hour. We have 
seen no prettier gift-hook for a long time.”— Athenaum. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, Mew York. 


A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 21 


BOOKS FOR BOYS. 

A Wonder Book: For Boys and Girls. Comprising 

Ktrited, pST^cents! 68 * Bj Nathaniel Hawthorne. 12mo, cloth, 

‘ A beautiful little story. It will be read with delight by every child 

into whose hands it is placed.”— Gazette. 

lly Bog Plato: His Adventures and Impressions. By 

H. M. Cornwall Legh. 12ino, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

”A capital story, and one we heartily commend to boy readers, both 
gentle and simple.”— Guardian. 

Squib and His Friends. A Story for Children. By 

Ellen Everett Green. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

‘‘This book will please by its simplicity, its tenderness, and its healthy 
Interesting motive. It is admirably written.” — Scotsman. 

Tom's Opinion. The Story of a Boys’ School. By 

the author of “ Miss Toosey’s Mission.” 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75c. 

*‘A beautiful little story. ... It will be read with delight by 
every boy into whose hands it is placed.” — Pail Mall Gazette. 

Bobin’s Bide. A Story for Children. By Ellinor 

D. Adams. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“It Is a first-rate boys’ book. It is a capital story; the character* ar* 
well drawn, and the incidents are perfectly natural.” — Times. 

Peter and Tom. A Story for Boys. By Belle S. 

Cragin. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

Peter and Tom were unlikely heroes, particularly in the direction of 
heroism, but the proper chord was touched in each of their lives, and 
through many trials and adventures they developed Christian principles and 
successful business traits. 

Hurse Heatherclale’s Story. By Mrs. Molesworth. 

12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“ 'Nurse Heatherdale’s Story’ is all about a small boy, who was good 
enough, yet was always getting into some trouble through complication* 
in which he was not to blame. He is an orphan, though he is cared for in 
a way by relations, who are not so very rich, yet are looked on as well 
fixed. After many youthful trials and disappointments he falls into a 
big stroke of good luck, which lifts him and goes to make other* happy.” 

- — Commercial Advertiser. 

The Last of the Huggermuggers. A Giant Story. By 

Christopher P. Crauch. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“Fresh and charming in style, with fun that is never forced, pathos 
that is always genuine, and with a distinctly wholesome purpose. This is 
certain to be a favorite with boys.” — Literary World. 

The Hunting of the Snark. By Lewis Carroll, 

author of “Alice in Wonderland.” 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. 

“Whether as regarding author or illustrator, this hook is a jewel 
rarely to be found nowadays. Not a whit inferior to its predecessor in 
grand extravagance of imagination, and delicious allegorical nonsense.” 
— Quarterly Review. 


For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the 
publisher, A. L. BJJRT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York. 






























































































































































































































































































































































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